


Light the Sky with Silver

by LuckyLadybug



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Animals, Brothers, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Nightmares, Penguins, Snow, Team as Family, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22288915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyLadybug/pseuds/LuckyLadybug
Summary: Post-series, my Pendulum Swings verse. While trying to stop the latest madman, Lector is pulled off a cliff with him and over a waterfall. The rest of the Big Five, as well as Yugi and the others, search frantically for him while he struggles to survive alone and badly hurt in the cold.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The characters are not mine and the story is! This is an expanded version of a blurb I did for the 31 Days prompt from April 14th, 2019: Sitting on this crumbling empire. It takes place in my post-series Pendulum Swings verse, which redeemed the Big Five. I'm going to post all the chapters here tonight, because FF.net broke and I can't get the final chapter up over there.

_It was yet another battle against a enemy bent on magical destruction, this time in Domino Canyon. The Big Five had been fighting diligently, but their opponent and his magical relic were proving difficult to beat. And with the harsh winter temperatures, they really wished they were fighting almost anywhere else._

_"It's getting harder to see!" Crump exclaimed, holding up a hand to shield his eyes. It had just started to snow, and the harsh flakes were stinging every bare spot of skin on everyone._

_"I don't even see where he went," Nesbitt snarled._

_The wind howled in an eerie and forbidding manner, as if condemning the lot of them and their desperate attempts to protect the world from the latest madman._

_"If only Atem and Yami Bakura and Mr. Kaiba weren't busy with the alternate Yami Marik kidnapping Mokuba," Johnson bemoaned. "We could really use every magical object that's on our side here!"_

_"They said they'd be here as soon as they could," Gansley growled, "but that isn't going to be soon enough."_

_"Look out!" Lector suddenly screamed._

_Everything happened in a split-second—their enemy lunging for the final attack with his magical artifact, Lector blasting him with his ring to save the others . . . the man falling over the cliff but grabbing Lector's ankle without warning to drag him down too. Without anything to grab onto, Lector yelled as he was helplessly pulled over the edge. The rest of the Big Five looked and lunged in horrified desperation, frantic to catch hold of their loved one before it was too late. But although they all strained as far as they humanly could, and Lector in turn flailed for the edge of the precipice, it was no use. Lector only barely caught the cliff long enough to dislodge several loose rocks, which fell with them over the waterfall that flowed at the drop-off._

_Nesbitt fell to his knees, shaking. "LECTOR!" he screamed. "LECTOR!"_

_The only answer was the rushing of the water. As they helplessly stared at the bottom of the falls, it looked like the foaming white liquid was turning red._

****

"Démas? Démas, you have to get up now."

The gentle brush against his cold cheek finally caused him to stir, his eyelids fluttering as his exhausted mind tried to fully process what was happening.

"Grandmother?" he rasped. But no, that was impossible. She sounded strong and well and of sound mind, the way she had been when he had been a child happily going to visit her in New Orleans.

The way she hadn't been for many years now. . . .

But she was certainly right about one thing. Phantom of the past or not, he had to wake up. He groaned, curling his fingers on the frozen ground underneath him.

Snow. . . .

What had happened? Where was he? Where were the others?

At last he managed to open his eyes more, but that helped very little. All he could see was swirling white in front of him, while just to the side the river rushed along in its still-moving current, not yet frozen by the frigid temperatures.

Finally it started to come back to him—the fight on the cliff, the fall, the plunge into the icy water. . . . A shudder ran the length of his spine at the memory. The waterfall's pressure had left both him and his nemesis battered by the time they were ejected into the river. He remembered the sight of the hateful man struggling against the water, trying to get his magical artifact to activate and save him, but the river and the falls had smashed him into the rocks instead. Lector had fought with all his might against the same fate, but the pounding water had filled all his senses and he had finally lost the battle for consciousness. He had fallen into oblivion certain that was the end.

Instead, he was waking up on the shore, most likely far downstream. But how badly he was hurt was another pressing question.

He gritted his teeth as he tried to force himself to kneel in the swiftly accumulating snow. Both his knees were protesting. They felt bruised at the very least, but not shattered. His arms and legs likewise didn't seem to be broken. But as he pushed himself up, the crimson against the white was all too obvious. He was bleeding somewhere.

A hand went to his forehead and came away red. Hopefully that wasn't a serious wound. It also felt like there was either bruising or another cut on his right arm, the way it was throbbing.

"Help," he rasped, but his voice was lost on the unrelenting winds. How far away had he been taken? The others were no doubt beside themselves with panic and fear. Would they even know he was alive? Of course they would be looking for him, but everything felt so solitary, so still. He doubted there was another human around for miles.

It was strange about his cheek, though. The snow was so cold every time it hit his skin, but the touch that had awakened him had been warm.

If anyone had really been there, however, they would have stayed to help him if they were decent. There were no footprints in the snow, although with how fast it was falling it would probably cover any footprints within minutes.

Now he struggled to stand. There was nothing immediately there that he could grab onto, and he certainly didn't feel like dragging himself to the nearest tree for support, so he held out his arms for balance and desperately prayed that he could get up on his own, right here. Under normal circumstances he certainly could, but with his body so battered from the fall, it was hardly normal now. He stumbled, pitching face-first back into the snow.

For a long moment he lay there, humiliated even though no one had seen his spill. Then he groaned somewhere deep inside himself and pushed himself up again. He was going to stand. He had to! He wasn't going to die here like this!

The second attempt went better, and he swayed but finally managed to catch himself and mostly stand up straight. He took a step forward and then another, limping towards the trees. If there was nothing and no one around, he would somehow have to try to find some meager form of shelter until morning and then see if he could stumble back to town for help.

He hated to think how the others must be feeling. If they thought he was dead, they would all be inconsolable. And they would be forced to start thinking it soon, if they didn't already. Logic would tell them he couldn't have survived. No doubt the police and search-and-rescue teams would too.

And Mokuba. . . . He didn't even know if Mokuba had been rescued from the alternate Yami Marik. He could only pray that the boy was safe, and hope that the portal would be closed to prevent any more enemies from there deciding to torture people here. It was sad to think of cutting off communications with their friends from there, but they had enough to deal with without other dimensional versions of their biggest threats. Not to mention they needed to keep their local enemies from deciding to go to the other dimension and tormenting their alternate selves.

He hated to think how poor Mokuba would handle it when he was told what had happened with the Big Five. He would be devastated and would probably blame himself, since the others had been trying to save him and there hadn't been anyone to help the Big Five when the second threat had appeared.

Lector had to stay alive and get back, for everyone's sakes. . . .

He reached out a shaking hand to the nearest tree trunk. He rested for a brief moment, then pushed forward and reached for the next one. In this way he forced himself on, half-mechanically advancing from tree to tree. Maybe when he was where there were trees all around him and no open spaces, he could stop and try to safely rest under one. . . .

Instead he found himself limping into a clearing. A darkened cabin loomed ahead on a hill, beaconing to him.

Was anyone home? Would they let him stay? What if no one was there? He hated to break in, but he needed shelter from the storm. He was soaking wet and only growing colder the longer he was out in this. He was still aware enough that he feared the onset of hypothermia. If that happened out here with him all alone, there was very little hope left for his survival.

He staggered onto the porch, almost falling again but catching himself just in time. He leaned heavily on the door, a shudder traveling up his body. "Hello?" he rasped. He managed a weak knock and waited. When no one came, he groaned and sank farther against the door. "Help. . . ."

He tried the handle. It was unlocked, and started to swing open. Stumbling, he entered the room and shut the door after him. "Hello?" he called again. Would someone really leave the door unlocked like that?

He shivered. It was dry in here, but still cold. Fumbling across the wall for a light switch did nothing. Maybe the cabin was too rustic to have electricity.

Hopefully it would have a fire. He moved slowly over the darkened room, feeling things with his hands. When he reached the wall, his foot hit what felt like a grate. He dropped to his knees. This was definitely a fireplace, and there was a battery-operated lighter next to it. He picked it up, his hands trembling from the cold, and turned it on. The flame that flickered to life from the top was a joyous, almost incredible sight. He reached over the safety grate and lit the logs before extinguishing the lighter. As the flames climbed over the logs, bathing the room in a warm, orange glow, Lector's strength gave out and he collapsed on the floor in front of the hearth.

****

On the cliff, the police and search-and-rescue teams had long ago been called and were surveying the scene. But to the Big Four's outrage, they insisted nothing could even be done until morning . . . and that it was unlikely there was anything that could be done at all.

"They're both surely dead," one of the police officers told the agonized group. "The waterfall is fierce and those rocks below are a death sentence."

"Has anyone ever gone over the falls before?" Gansley asked, his tone clipped.

"Not often, but yes," the officer admitted. "They didn't survive."

Nesbitt swore. "I won't believe he's gone yet! If you're too cowardly to start looking tonight, I'm going to!" He grabbed a grappling hook out of the search-and-rescue vehicle and ran to the edge.

The paramedics chased after him. "Sir, we know how you feel, but it's too dangerous to look tonight!" one exclaimed. "We need to have better light to do this! The snow is obscuring everything!"

"You have spotlights, don't you?" Nesbitt spat. "Well, turn them on and shine them down here!" He slammed the grappling hook into the ground and let the rope drop off the side of the cliff. "And don't patronize me! You have no idea how I feel, unless you've also lost your best friend and were told you couldn't even do anything to save him!"

The paramedic had to shake his head. "No, I haven't experienced that."

The officer looked to Gansley, who was simply standing by and gripping his cane. "You're the leader, aren't you?" he frowned. "Aren't you even going to try to stop him?!"

Gansley gave him a cold look. "In this case, no. Naturally I don't want him to wander out of this immediate area alone, but if there's any hope of Lector being found alive, we can't waste any time. By morning he could be frozen to death. I can't look myself; I'd only slow everything down. But I won't stop him . . . or the others," he added as Crump and Johnson chased Nesbitt to the cliff.

"If they get lost in this storm, they could all freeze to death," the paramedic pointed out. "The snow is only coming down stronger."

"That situation might not be any different by morning," Gansley said. "The report was that the snow would continue through the night and all the next day. By morning the snow will be who knows how much deeper."

"Then why in Heaven's name were you here in the first place?!" the officer boomed.

Gansley's eyes darkened. "Because we had no choice," he darkly replied.

Nesbitt reached the bottom and stood there, frantically looking around for his lost friend. "Lector!" he screamed.

Crump and then Johnson descended near him. "What are we going to do?!" Johnson exclaimed.

"If he did survive, he must have been washed downstream," Nesbitt said. "We should follow the river!"

Crump agreed, but looked worriedly at the heavy flakes descending from the sky. "Those guys have got an awful point, though," he said. "We don't wanna get lost or frozen too. We can't leave poor Gansley to deal with something like that!"

Nesbitt just started walking anyway. "If you don't want to come, then go back," he snapped. "I can't just do nothing!"

Johnson chased after him. "What he means is that we need to be careful," he said. "We can't just go off recklessly looking and disregarding our own safety. That wouldn't help Lector anyway."

Nesbitt growled. "You're always saying how it feels like the majority of the horrible things happen to Lector," he reminded. "You still feel that way, don't you?"

Johnson looked down. "Yes," he said, a bit of bitterness slipping into his voice. "But terrible things have happened to all of us. And all of us are hurt by every one of those things. We don't want to cause anything else to go wrong."

"We should look around for a while," Crump said as he caught up to them, "but if we can't find him we probably will havta wait for it to get light."

Nesbitt stormed off ahead, beaming his flashlight down the shore. "Lector!" he screamed in desperation. "Lector, answer me!"

He didn't know how long he ran into the vicious blizzard, screaming for the missing man. The snow whipped him harshly, hitting every part of exposed flesh and determinedly trying to get into his eyes. He fought it off with a snarl, still shining his flashlight around the area in a panic. "Lector!"

Even the spotlights were concealed by the surging snow by now. Nesbitt's foot hit a rock and he started to go down. The icy water met his left hand and leg as they slipped over the edge of the shore.

Crump and Johnson were there in an instant, grabbing him and pulling him back up. "It's getting too hard to see!" Crump yelled over the screaming wind. "Nesbitt, we've gotta go back up for now!"

"No!" Nesbitt tried to pull away, despite now violently shivering. "He'll be dead by morning! We have to keep going! We have to find him!"

"He might be dead right now." Johnson sounded at the point of tears. "Nesbitt, we have to wait until we can see better! And we need to get goggles and other equipment to be better prepared to search!"

Crump held Nesbitt close. "Lector's resourceful," he rasped. He was trying to be soothing, but the heartache was obvious in his voice. He didn't want to leave either. "If he's alive, he'll find a way to stay warm until we can come."

"What if he's laying unconscious?!" Nesbitt retorted. He fought in desperation to get out of Crump's grasp. "I have to keep going! I have to!"

The wind nearly knocked all of them to the ground and into the water. Before either Crump or Johnson could respond, the paramedics were catching up to them and starting to help them to their feet.

"You have to come back up now!" one of them insisted. "The storm is only getting worse!"

"Take them!" Nesbitt said. He stumbled up. "I'll go on by myself if I have to!"

"We are not gonna let you do that!" Crump exclaimed. It tore his heart in two, but he grabbed Nesbitt around the waist and started to haul him back the other direction. "We've just gotta go for now!"

"No!" Nesbitt desperately fought against him, but Crump held fast. Not even trying to hide his tears, Johnson joined him.

"If we find Lector dead, you'll never forgive yourselves!" Nesbitt screamed.

"You're right," Crump said. "But we'd never forgive ourselves if you died either!"

"This is an impossible situation," Johnson sorrowfully said. "I hate this! I don't want to choose between you or Lector, Nesbitt! But all we can do is pray we won't have to!"

By now they had somehow made it back to the cliff. Gansley was right at the edge, staring down at them in fear and worry. He relaxed to see them coming back, but he was still agonized to see that Lector was not with them. He had not really had much hope, and yet a part of him hadn't been able to keep from hoping at least a little bit. But with the storm growing ever worse, he also had to sadly concede that they couldn't keep looking right now.

Crump drew a shaking breath. "Come on, Nesbitt," he said. "I can't carry you up the rope. Please just go up. . . ."

Nesbitt snarled but shakily grabbed it. He didn't want his other friends to suffer in the snow either, and if he didn't move, neither would they. There was nothing else for him to do.

Once he started going up, he could feel the rope move as Johnson and Crump followed. Every step was taking them farther away from Lector and whatever had happened to him. He could be dead right now, lying at the bottom of the river or somewhere down the shore. But if he wasn't . . . if he wasn't. . . .

Gansley reached out for Nesbitt as he arrived at the top. "I'm sorry," he rasped.

Nesbitt gripped his hand, shaking. His legs felt weak, but he wasn't going to collapse here. He stepped to the side to allow the others to climb onto the cliff too. "He's gone," he said. "Lector's gone. . . ."

Gansley pulled him close in a desperate hug that he needed as much or more than Nesbitt. "There's still hope," he said.

He could only pray it was really true.


	2. Chapter 2

Seto was badly shaken as he looked at the text messages coming in from Gansley. There really hadn't been any choice but to split up to handle the two crises, but according to what Gansley was telling him, the other calamity had ended in tragedy. And now Seto had to figure out a way to tell Mokuba what had happened.

He looked to his brother, who was also shaken from being kidnapped by the alternate Yami Marik. Now he was wrapped in a warm blanket while Marik and Téa both tried to comfort him. And as he looked up at Seto, he could tell all on his own that something was drastically wrong. "Seto?" he quavered.

Seto looked down at his phone again and then shoved it into his pocket. "Mokuba . . ." He drew a deep breath.

"Something happened to Lector, didn't it?" Mokuba gripped the edge of the blanket.

Seto walked over to his brother and knelt down in front of him. "When they were fighting that nutcase, he tried to attack the others and Lector had to stop him. He fell over a cliff and . . . he dragged Lector down with him."

Tears filled Mokuba's eyes. "No. . . ."

Both Marik and Téa looked up in shock and horror. "How bad is it?" Marik demanded, laying a hand on Mokuba's shoulder.

"It's bad," Seto said. "They went over a waterfall and neither of them have been recovered. The rest of the Big Five tried to look for a while, but now the storm is too bad to continue tonight."

Mokuba sobbed and Seto pulled him close. "If someone else had been there to help them fight that freak, maybe it wouldn't have happened," he choked out. "But everyone else had to come save me. . . ."

"Some of us had already gone over to the other dimension before that creep showed up," Téa said sadly, "and by the time he did, none of us could get away to go help them. . . ."

Joey punched the car door. "Lector wanted to go help Mokuba, and he was trying to, but that jerk showed up and got in the way first! Man, if I'd been able to go help with him, he wouldn't have stood a chance!"

"If five magic users could only stop him with a disaster, what do you really think you could have done?" Yami Bakura grunted.

"On the other hand, a lot of us helped stop Zorc without magic," Tristan said. "We could have made a difference in this mess too."

"In any case, it's clear that we must seal the portal," Atem said with a heavy heart. "It was unwise to ever leave it open."

Yugi nodded. "The other me insisted we close it. . . . I feel terrible we won't be able to easily help them if they need it, but . . ."

"We can't risk something like this happening again," Yami Bakura flatly finished.

Mokuba looked towards the canyon entrance. The portal was just shy of it. "I wonder how far in they are," he said softly.

"They're coming back now," Seto said.

"Except Lector," Mokuba whispered.

Seto sighed. There was nothing he could say to that.

Taking a deep breath, Atem concentrated with the Infinity Puzzle. As it began to glow, Yami Bakura added the power of the Infinity Ring. The portal crackled in protest but finally closed with a sizzling snap.

"Well . . . it's done." It was all Atem could think to say. He felt so shaken, so cold inside. The Big Five had become dear friends to all of them by now. The thought that Lector had been lost, especially when it may very well have been preventable, was very difficult to accept.

"Good," Yami Bakura grunted. "The last thing we need is for a repeat of this madness."

Bakura bit his lip. "We have to help look for Lector. . . ."

"There won't be any more looking until morning," Seto said.

Mokuba couldn't hide the tears in his eyes. "That might be too late. . . ."

"I know," Seto said, not thinking it wise to give his brother false hope. "But it won't help anything to try looking and get lost ourselves."

Atem was staring towards the canyon road. "Here they come. . . ."

Everyone turned to look. Gansley's limousine was emerging from the trees, with the paramedics in front and the police in back.

Tristan frowned. "Man, they're not missing a trick. They really don't want to risk the rest of the Big Five turning back to look for Lector."

"I'm sure they all tried to," Serenity said softly. "Especially Mr. Nesbitt. . . ."

"You're probably right," Tristan said. "He wouldn't let Lector go easy."

"None of them would, though," Téa said. "And I know we won't either."

The limousine pulled over to the edge of the road and Gansley opened the door. "How is everything here?" he asked. The resignation and sadness in his voice was both chilling and heartbreaking.

"We saved Mokuba, as I told you," Seto said. "The portal's sealed and we were just about to leave." He hesitated. "I'm . . . sorry about Lector."

"We all are," Atem said. "We'll do everything we can to help find him."

"Thank you," Gansley said. "I don't need to say that it's destroying all of us to have to leave."

Nesbitt growled low in the car. Crump sadly laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

Bakura looked to Yami Bakura with tentative hope. "Yami, couldn't you use the Ring to find out if Lector is alive?"

Yami Bakura scowled. "It would only be able to point us in a possible direction to look for him. That wouldn't tell us if he's dead or alive."

Bakura sighed. "Oh, that's true. . . ."

"We'd better all go home and get some sleep," Yugi said. "Then we'll come back as soon as it's light and start looking!"

Everyone agreed to that plan, many with reluctant hearts. But the snow continued to fall fiercely as they descended from the canyon and re-entered the city. Whether anyone wanted to admit it or not, there really wasn't any choice but to go home. Many desperate prayers for Lector's safety and well-being went up that night.

****

Nesbitt was still restless as they arrived back at Gansley's house and went inside. "This is ridiculous!" he fumed. "There won't be any chance of sleep with Lector missing like this!"

"No, I'm sure there won't be," Gansley retorted.

"We'll all either just lie awake in agony or fall asleep in agony," Nesbitt continued. "We won't be rested by morning!"

"We need to try anyway," Johnson said, but even as he said it, it sounded hollow and cold. If it wasn't for the storm, he doubted the night or exhaustion or anything else could have made them leave.

"And you've gotta get out of those wet clothes!" Crump exclaimed.

Nesbitt growled. The left sides of his shirt and pants were still soaking wet from his partial plunge into the water, but though he had been uncomfortable throughout the ride back, all he had been able to think of was wondering how much colder poor Lector was right now.

"This is nothing," he said then. "Lector was completely submerged in icy water! And if he's alive, he was spat out somewhere in all this snow!" He slammed his fist into the wall.

"You still need to get into dry clothes yourself," Gansley said, his voice coming out more sternly than he had intended. "You know very well Lector would never want you to keep punishing yourself because he's suffering."

He could practically see Nesbitt tensing. Realizing he had probably been too harsh, he sighed sadly and laid a hand on Nesbitt's shoulder. "It's too much to lose one of my sons. Please, don't make me afraid I'll lose another."

As he had hoped, Nesbitt's muscles began to relax. They still had not figured out what to officially do about the legal adoption they had wanted to do, but regardless, they still considered themselves a family and weren't afraid to admit it. Appealing to that part of Nesbitt's personality was certainly having a far better effect than scolding him.

"I'll go change," Nesbitt said, sounding more subdued than before. "But you can't expect me to sleep."

"I sure don't feel like sleeping," Crump said. "But I know if I don't, in the morning I'm gonna feel like a trainwreck."

"I already feel like one," Nesbitt countered as he turned and trudged up the stairs.

"Don't we all," Johnson said quietly.

Crump ran a hand over his face. "Man, you don't know how bad I felt when I had to pull Nesbitt away like that. It really felt like we were abandoning Lector. But . . . I just couldn't let Nesbitt get himself hurt too. . . ."

"Of course not," Gansley said. "Lector would understand. He would have wanted us to get Nesbitt away."

"Yeah . . . but will I ever be able to make myself understand that I wasn't choosing Nesbitt over him?" Crump said.

"In a way, we all were, but not because we like Nesbitt better," Johnson said. "Nesbitt's fate was known to us while Lector's still is not. We could see the storm was just getting too strong, even if Nesbitt wouldn't admit it. We simply, physically could not keep going right then." He looked away. "But logical explanations don't help much right now, do they."

"Nah." Crump heaved a sigh. "I'd better get upstairs and see how Nesbitt's doing."

Gansley nodded. "Yes. You'd better." He reached up, massaging the bridge of his nose.

Johnson went over to him. "We're going to find Lector," he said helplessly.

"But neither of us know if we're going to find him alive," Gansley said sadly.

Johnson looked away. He could hardly deny that agony. ". . . We should try to get some sleep," he said, finding it hollow even as he said it.

"I doubt I'll have any better time of it than Nesbitt," Gansley said. "I keep seeing the shock and the fear in Lector's eyes when he realized he was being dragged to his death. . . ." His voice cracked. "He tried so hard to grab the cliff, and we all tried so hard to grab him, but none of us succeeded. . . ."

Johnson clenched his fists. He was already thinking about it plenty without Gansley saying anything. He could hardly stand to hear his thoughts given voice, but it was so rare for Gansley to open up at all that Johnson also couldn't bear to think of pleading with him to stop.

"He knows we all tried our best," he choked out at last.

"Yes, but I'm not worried about him thinking otherwise," Gansley said.

"I know." Johnson finally turned back. "It's just agonizing that we failed."

Gansley nodded. "Especially if he's gone. . . ." He sighed and headed for the stairs. "We'd better try to sleep. . . ."

Johnson trailed after him.

****

Nesbitt was slowly changing into pajamas after peeling off his wet clothes. He frowned as he picked up the seldom-used top. Normally he would trade it for a tank top or T-shirt, but tonight he didn't feel like it. Maybe he was admitting to himself that he was cold . . . or maybe it was another way of showing how much he missed Lector, since Lector had never understood Nesbitt not feeling cold enough to want the top. In any case, he pulled it on. He stared down at the cotton material, blankly poking at a button, and finally just sat down on the edge of the bed without buttoning it. Somehow he didn't feel like making the extra effort.

He was still sitting forlornly on his bed, staring at the floor, when Crump came up.

"Hey, Buddy," Crump quietly called to him.

Nesbitt glanced up but didn't speak.

". . . Are you mad at me?" Crump asked. "For pulling you away from looking for Lector, I mean. . . ."

Nesbitt sighed. "I don't know," he said. "The logical part of me knows you had to. But . . . the other part of me wonders how you could do it."

Crump came in and sat on a chair next to the bed. "The only way I could do it was because I didn't wanna see you get hurt too," he said. "But it tore me in two, I'm tellin' you."

Nesbitt finally just nodded and wearily leaned back. There wasn't much that could be said to that that hadn't already been said. He wasn't really sure how to react. He was grateful that he was cared about, and yet he was still upset that they had left Lector somewhere out there in the storm.

". . . If we don't find him," he said at last, "or if he's dead . . . I honestly don't know how I'll ever go on. . . ."

"Yeah," Crump said softly. "I feel the same, Buddy. . . . Even though another part of me knows Lector was trying to give all of us a chance and that's how he got grabbed. . . . It'd be all in vain if we couldn't go on. . . ."

Nesbitt looked up at him. "Do you know how hollow that sounds right now?"

Crump nodded. "I know. . . . I was trying it out to see how it sounded, but even knowing it's true, it just feels unfeeling and cold when we all love him so much and want him back and feel so awful about how things happened. . . ."

Nesbitt sank back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. "We've come through so many magical problems, but now it's the natural elements torturing us. At least with magic there are ways to reverse a lot of problems, as illogical as that is . . . but if something of this world takes Lector from us, there's no getting him back."

"We've just gotta hope Lector pulls through," Crump helplessly said.

"Which also sounds hollow," Nesbitt said. "It's not that simple and we both know it. There just aren't any comforting words in a situation like this!"

"Yeah. . . ." Crump sighed and reached over to pat Nesbitt's hand, which was laying in defeat on the bed. "I . . . I'll stay here tonight, if you want. . . ." He didn't like to say If you don't want to be alone, nor to admit that he didn't want to be alone himself. The situation was horrible enough without having to try to face it alone, especially on the first night, so soon after it had happened.

Nesbitt really didn't want to be alone. "Alright. . . ."

"And I'll just kick back in your recliner here," Crump added, getting up and going to the La-Z-Boy across the room. "I won't try to share the bed."

Nesbitt smirked a bit. "If you can sleep in something that's not a bed." But he knew Crump wouldn't have a problem with it. He could sleep anywhere.

"I'm good." Crump had already changed to pajamas and he settled down, pulling the chair's throw over him.

Nesbitt sighed and slowly got up, then pulled the quilt back and climbed under it. _Lector . . . where are you?_ he said in his mind. _And how will we ever find you before it's too late? . . . If it isn't too late already. . . ._

But there were no real answers. He said another desperate prayer as he struggled to sleep.

****

_The water was cold, frigid, sweeping over and around him and dragging him under its surface. He thought he had screamed, but now he wasn't sure. He fought to keep his mouth closed, not wanting to let in the waterfall. Its pressure soon enough pushed him to the bottom, where the water was foaming on the surface of the river and over the rocks. He tried to swim away from the falls, but he was already so hurt from the force of it that it was difficult to make himself move even at the points where he wasn't under its pressure._

_Every time he struggled to get to the surface, the madman who had pulled him in forced him back down again. "You'll never get away," he hissed. "If I have to die, so do you."_

_"No!" Lector pushed him away, but then the water was taking them both downstream. The rock was in their path before he could do anything about it. . . ._

"NO!"

Lector's echoing scream in reality startled him awake. He breathed heavily, shuddering. He was alive. . . . He had missed the rock. . . .

The crackling from the fireplace reached his ears and reminded him of the rest of his reality. Right now he was still somewhat wet, but the warmth from the fire he had set was certainly helping to dry him out.

He frowned. If he hadn't swooned, he would have tried to find something else to wear while drying his clothes by the fire. Who knew what kind of problems he might end up having from laying around so long in those wet clothes. Not that there was much of anything to be done for it now.

The rock flashed before his memory again and he shook his head in frustration. He couldn't spend time dwelling on what had happened, no matter how terrifying and traumatizing it had been. He had to push it away and deal with the present.

Slowly he sat up, his arms shaking. He pulled back his coat sleeve, staring at the torn shirt sleeve soaked with water as well as the blood from his hurt arm. Luckily, it didn't look too serious, but it still could be if it got infected. Was there a first aid kit or anything he could use as a disinfectant around here?

He looked around the cabin. The battery-powered lighter indicated it had been used semi-recently, but the light from the fire highlighted a mostly rustic space notwithstanding. The old table stood without a tablecloth and three chairs around it, with one pulled out slightly. Cupboards had been built into the walls, and what looked like a modern sink stood in the middle of them. That was a relief. Hopefully there was indoor plumbing. He could wash the wound with water, at the very least.

Reaching for the wall, he pulled himself to his feet and limped to the sink. Pushing the handle upward brought no result at all and his hopes started to plummet. Maybe the water was frozen solid. Or maybe it was only connected when people were here. . . .

A trickle of liquid jerked him out of his thoughts. Any water at all would have been a joy, but this was actually warm water! There had to be some kind of working hot water heater or generator on the premises. It couldn't be as rustic as it appeared.

Quickly he leaned down, bathing his wounded arm under the stream. The stings brought a hiss of pain, but he ignored that and soon straightened to start going through the cupboards.

It wasn't much of a surprise to find most empty. But there was a bottle of brandy in one, which he gratefully took down. He could definitely use that as an antiseptic. He left it on the counter and turned off the sink. Maybe he would wander around his surroundings and see what else was here before making his next move.

A door on the other side of the fireplace led to a bedroom with one small bed. It looked big enough for him, but he wondered if he would rather take the mattress and quilt and sleep in front of the fireplace. A shiver ran up his spine. After everything he had been through, he was still extremely cold when he wasn't right by the heat.

Another door off the bedroom led to a modern bathroom, the final proof that the cabin had been recently inhabited. And here, at last, he finally found a light switch and flipped it on. The light was dim, but better than nothing but fire light. Opening the mirror revealed a medicine cabinet and a first aid kit, which he gratefully took down before limping back to the front room. He would sit at the table and clean and bandage his arm. But first, perhaps, while he was at the mirror, he had better take care of the cut on his forehead. It didn't look too bad; hopefully that wasn't just the affect of the dim light.

Several minutes later, his hands were shaking with the cold. He left the bathroom and bedroom, gratefully returning to the fire. He held his hands out to the blaze to warm them again before settling at the table to take care of his arm.

How he wished the others could know he was alright! For all of its modern features, the cabin didn't appear to have a telephone. That would be too much to ask after everything else, he supposed. But he couldn't bear knowing how agonized they must be. If they didn't think he was dead, they knew he would be soon. They would have no way of knowing or even thinking that he would find shelter for the night.

Would he be able to leave in the morning? He wasn't sure. Just moving around as much as he had been had left him very weakened and shaking. He might have to stay here all day tomorrow and try to regain his strength before leaving. But with no food, there wouldn't be much hope of getting back much strength. It might be wiser to leave in the morning and struggle to find civilization. Well, he would see how he felt by then, and what the weather was like.

It took longer to mend his arm than he had hoped. Cleaning the wound wasn't too difficult, but putting the bandage on with one hand was annoying, and it not being his dominant hand made it even more frustrating. When it was done at last, he sighed and pushed the rest of the kit away from him. He just wanted to rest again. It was tempting to just put his head down on the table and try to doze that way, but instead he forced himself up and limped back to the bedroom to get the mattress and quilt.

He had also underestimated the strength of the mattress and overestimated his own strength at the moment. His injured arm screamed at the first attempt to lift the mattress off the bed. A more insistent try that favored his other arm got the mattress half-up and him half-down with a wave of dizziness. It didn't take long to realize he wouldn't be lifting the mattress anywhere. Groaning, he let it slip back down before climbing under the covers and burrowing deep within them. By now his clothes were practically dry, at least. He really didn't feel like taking them off now and wrapping himself only in the quilt, which seemed to be the only thing in the cabin that he could use for that purpose. And the bed, alone in a dark room, was ice-cold at first.

"I wish I were home," he whispered to the pillow. But that wish was more for his friends than himself. Knowing their anguish was the worst part of being away from them. And he was certainly gratified for the shelter. Cold as the bed was at the moment, anything was better than trying to sleep outside.

He couldn't even start to doze until the bed warmed a bit from his body heat. But then at last, sleep began to creep over him, taking him to a strange but comforting place where his grandmother watched over him the rest of the night and tenderly stroked his hair, as she had done when he was a child.


	3. Chapter 3

_Mokuba screamed and struggled as the alternate Yami Marik dragged him towards the portal into the parallel world. At first, when confronted by the demon, he had naturally thought it was their own Yami Marik, but his abductor was all too quick to make it clear he was not._

_"So, you're the one who made friends with Marik in this world?" he had sneered. "The one in my world would have been more to my liking. He was much more of a brat than you."_

_"What do you want with me?!" Mokuba had cried._

_"Taking you will cause a lot of trouble for both our worlds. That sounds like fun."_

_"You big creep!" Mokuba had tried to run, but it was hopeless and he had been scooped up by the madman._

_Yami Marik had laughed and refused to say more until they were through the portal. Mokuba had continued to fight him, to no avail._

_"You're gonna be in big trouble when Seto and Marik get here!" he exclaimed. "And Lector too!"_

_"You certainly have interesting friends," Yami Marik mocked. "And I will delight in crushing every one of their hearts . . . by crushing yours!" He threw Mokuba to the ground and pulled the Millennium Rod out from his belt._

_Mokuba shrieked in terror, but he was glued to the ground. No matter how hard he tried, he could not run. The dagger was unsheathed and coming towards him. . . . He couldn't stop it. . . ._

Mokuba flew upright in bed, shaking, his hair falling around his face. As reality settled in, he groaned and slumped forward, gripping the quilt.

"It was just a bad dream," he whispered. "It wasn't real. It didn't happen. I'm okay. . . ."

But his voice caught in his throat. While everyone was making sure he was okay, Lector had fallen to his probable death. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the sobs. He had already cried, and it certainly didn't help anything. But . . . more tears were still there, fighting to come out. "Lector . . ."

Mokuba pushed back the quilt and got up, walking to the window. The snow was still coming down in the city. Normally that would excite him, but now it could only terrify him. For it to still be snowing here, it had to still be snowing in the canyons. What would Lector ever do, if he was possibly alive after falling over the waterfall?

"Please keep him safe," he whispered in a heartbroken prayer. "Please help us find him alive. . . ."

He leaned against the windowsill as the tears came out.

The door quietly opened. "Mokuba?"

Mokuba looked up with a start. "Seto. . . ."

Seto came in, frowning in concern. It wasn't a surprise that Mokuba was awake again, nor that he was in tears. And although it could be because of what had happened to him, most likely it was because of Lector. Seto really didn't know what to say to Mokuba about that. He was afraid Lector was dead, and it wasn't in his nature to give false hope. But he also hated to say what he felt was the truth. Mokuba had been through enough tonight without being told that someone he loved very much was probably gone.

". . . I hoped you'd stay asleep," Seto said at last.

Mokuba shook his head. "I had a nightmare about that other Yami Marik. . . . And then I woke up and remembered about Lector. . . . If I just hadn't been taken . . . !"

Seto sat down in the windowseat and gestured for Mokuba to join him. "You know how much Yami Marik loves to cause chaos and misery. You couldn't have stopped him."

Mokuba knelt next to Seto and looked at him with tear-filled eyes. "But why did he have to come on the same night as that other creep?! If it hadn't been the same time, you would have been there to help the Big Five! Atem and Yami Bakura would've been there too. And probably everything would've been okay. . . ."

"There was no meaning or purpose to those attacks happening the same night," Seto said. "It was just one of the ways life tries to beat us down." But he frowned as he said it. What if there could have been a reason for both things happening the same night? Could the two villains have agreed to cause chaos together? Yami Marik would jump at any chance to hurt people, but what about the other madman? Why would he want to attract the attention of those who would try to stop him?

It was surely all nonsense, though. And it didn't matter anyway, when the alternate Yami Marik was back in his world's Shadow Realm and the other lunatic was probably dead along with poor Lector.

"It's sure trying to beat the Big Five down," Mokuba said bitterly. "Seto . . . will you let me help look for Lector?"

Seto sighed. He had known Mokuba would want to. He hoped it wouldn't lead to some horrific discovery, such as Mokuba being the one to stumble on Lector's frozen body, but he had already determined that he would allow Mokuba to come. Mokuba needed to feel useful and important, especially after feeling like this mess was his fault.

"Yeah," he said. "But only on the condition that you'll have to leave when I say so. The storm might get too bad to keep going again."

"But what if it's always that way?" Mokuba worried. "We just can't not look for him because of that! Then, by the time we find him, he really might be . . ." He trailed off.

Seto didn't really have any answers for that, either. If it was Mokuba lost in the snow, he wouldn't let anyone drag him away from continuing the search, no matter how bad the storm.

"I'm sure the Big Five will keep at it as long as they can," he finally said. "Meanwhile, do you think there's any chance you can get back to sleep?"

"I don't know," Mokuba admitted. "I'd like to, but I'm so worried about Lector. . . ."

"How about you try, at least?" Seto said. "I'll stay with you again until you do."

"You need to sleep too, Seto," Mokuba objected.

"Then that can be added motivation for you to get to sleep," Seto countered.

Finally Mokuba nodded. "Okay. . . ." He got down from the windowseat and went back to the bed. Seto went with him and sat down in a chair next to the bed.

Mokuba had to admit it was definitely comforting to have Seto there as he climbed under the covers and tried to doze. In spite of himself, he finally did go back to sleep. And to his relief, this time he didn't get lost in a nightmare.

Seto sighed to himself. Mokuba had seemed peaceful the first time he had drifted off to sleep too. Maybe he should linger for a while in case the nightmares started up again. He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms, letting his thoughts wander.

Lector had always been the opposite of Gozaburo—polite instead of rude, kind instead of cruel, ethical instead of ruthless. Mokuba had adored him. Seto, always aloof and skeptical, had felt like Lector was just acting and not sincere. The more Gozaburo had drilled his horrible behavior and abuse into Seto, the less he had been willing to extend trust to Lector or anyone. But just as Gozaburo had negatively changed him, had he negatively changed Lector? Lector's friends had no doubt had some influence too, with their ruthless and sometimes dishonest ways, but if Lector had been sincere from the start, perhaps Seto's using of and betrayal of them all had also contributed to darkening his heart.

Seto frowned to himself. Gozaburo had taught him that being ruthless was the only way to succeed, both in business and in life. Lector had taught him that it didn't have to be that way. Why had he listened to the man he hated instead of the one Mokuba loved?

Maybe because Gozaburo had seemed to be right. He was the most powerful man, while Lector had been his majordomo. Being kind, as far as Seto was concerned, didn't get you to the top. And being kind wouldn't enable him to topple Gozaburo's rule over his life.

He had coldly thought that you always had to be prepared for betrayal in the business world. The Big Five shouldn't have trusted him. But they had, and he had turned on them all. From what Lector had said, they had all believed him. And even after he had unfairly stripped them of their power, they hadn't retaliated. They had only tried to oust him when his defeat to Yugi had made the company stocks and reputation plunge. Pegasus had backed them into a corner, they hadn't known where Seto was, and they had to do something to save the company. Maybe . . . especially if they really hadn't known about Pegasus's more . . . supernatural plans, Seto couldn't really fault them for accepting Pegasus's deal.

Of course, they had absolutely been in the wrong to let Pegasus take Mokuba, even if they had thought he would be a guest. And trying to put Seto in virtual reality later on had been outrageous and completely insane. But they all agreed about that now and were very sorry. And afterwards . . . well, Gansley had said that they had lost almost all sense of self while wandering in cyberspace. Only their desire for revenge had bled through. And sadly, Seto understood that problem all too well, didn't he? His hatred had eclipsed everything else during Battle City, until Mokuba had finally spoken up and pointed it out to him at the Duel Tower. From that point on, he really had fought to change himself. So had the Big Five, when their chance had come later.

And now . . . now. . . .

Seto sighed. He knew Mokuba still wished they and Lector could be a family. Seto really didn't think he could ever open his heart that much, that he could consider Lector a father figure for himself. Lector might even be dead now.

But if he wasn't. . . .

Seto dug his hands into his hair and stared up at the ceiling. If he had opened his heart to Lector long ago . . . if he could have trusted him enough to tell him about the abuse . . . what might have been different? Would Seto have turned out as ruthless as he had? Would the Big Five have ever fallen as far as they had?

It really didn't matter now because it was the past, long ago over and done with. So why couldn't he stop turning the problem over and over in his mind?

It wasn't like there was anyone he could confide in about the problem, either. He couldn't burden Mokuba with his thoughts and questions.

He paused. Well . . . if he really did consider Yugi and the others his friends now—and he had taken the huge step of admitting to himself and later, to them, that he did—then he should be willing to not always be so aloof around them, shouldn't he? He should be able to make the effort to reach out to them and talk to them about things that were troubling him.

They were all so worried about Lector right now, though. Should he really give them something else to think about? Especially when Lector might be dead and it was really irrelevant? What was he even trying to ask, anyway? Was he trying to ask if he should try to accept Lector as a father figure? Lector might not even want that, even if Seto felt like he could accept the man that much—which Seto still wasn't sure he could.

In any case, who would he even ask?

He did not feel comfortable asking Joey or Tristan, that was for sure. And it also seemed awkward to think of talking to Yugi or Atem about something like this. But maybe . . . after how she had already seen him vulnerable and afraid during the Reshef mess, he wouldn't feel quite as mortified to talk to Téa.

At least that was settled. But actually talking to her . . . that was the hard part.

He sighed and leaned back. He hoped Lector was alive, for Lector's sake and Mokuba's and Lector's best friends'. But . . . did he want Lector alive for his—Seto's—sake too? Was that why he was so troubled and plagued by thoughts of the past?

He frowned. This was another answer he didn't have.

****

The night passed restlessly for everyone. Gansley and Johnson had also fallen asleep in the same room, neither wanting to be alone. They had both lain on Gansley's bed, staring at the ceiling and talking into the night until they had dozed at last. When Johnson finally stirred come morning, Gansley was already awake and staring at the window.

"It's still snowing," he said hopelessly in greeting. "It must have been at it all night."

"But we have to look for Lector anyway!" Johnson exclaimed. He groped for his glasses on the nightstand.

"I know," Gansley said. "We're going to." He sighed. "Or you and the others will. I know I can't." He looked morosely at his cane. "I would slow everyone up far too much."

Johnson frowned. "What will you do?"

"There's not much point in my going out and using up valuable gas keeping the car heater running while I'm waiting for all of you," Gansley said. "I'll stay in town."

Johnson didn't like that idea, but he knew no one hated it more than Gansley. "Maybe you could go to Penguin World," he suggested, feeling helpless. "At least then you wouldn't be spending the whole day alone. . . ."

"Maybe I'll do that," Gansley agreed with a weary nod. "Although I doubt even penguins can cheer me up today."

"For once, I'm sure Crump would agree with you," Johnson said.

". . . And I just realized that Evangeline hasn't been told," Gansley said in dismay.

"Should we tell her?" Johnson looked hesitant.

"If you don't find any trace of Lector today, we'll probably have to," Gansley said. "She deserves to know her brother is missing."

"I know," Johnson sighed. But he dreaded it. The poor girl would be beside herself with terror and want to immediately come out to help look.

Gansley kept staring out the window and finally, slowly shook his head. "How could he possibly survive in all that?" he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

"I don't know." Johnson sounded tortured too. "But I know I can't take thinking that he isn't alive for us to find. . . . Maybe, somehow, he's alive. . . ."

"I want to believe that more than anything," Gansley said. "At the same time, logic tells me it just can't be. I understand Nesbitt's fear of false hope so very well."

Johnson nodded. "I don't want false hope either, but . . ." He sighed and turned away, pushing up his glasses. "I know that as a lawyer I should be focused on facts and not hopes and wishes, but when it comes to someone we love, all thoughts of what should be just go out the window."

"Sadly true," Gansley said. He pushed himself up and shuffled towards the door. "Let's have breakfast and then the rest of you can head out."

"Nesbitt would probably want to skip breakfast," Johnson remarked.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Gansley grunted. "All of you need as much strength as possible so you can keep looking."

"Agreed," Johnson nodded. "We should probably have something packed for lunch too."

"I'll have Hilda fix lunches," Gansley said. ". . . And also something lighter, in case . . ." He trailed off. In case you find Lector alive and starving. . . .

Johnson understood. He nodded. "That would be good." He tried to smile.

****

_"Démas . . . you poor boy. You got yourself in such a mess this time. . . ."_

_Lector slowly opened his eyes. He was still burrowed into the bed at the cabin, and his grandmother was sitting on the edge of it, still soothing and comforting him. "Grandmother . . ." he whispered. "But . . . how? You can't be here. . . . You . . ." He trailed off. He didn't like to say aloud how she was in a nursing home, believing herself a child. This grandmother was still like she had been in the past. It couldn't be real, and yet it felt so real. . . ._

_"Why can't I be here, child?" she softly replied._

_"It's not . . . well . . . it just can't be real," Lector said. "I have to be dreaming. . . ."_

_"Dreams are as real as your heart can make them," she said. "But sometimes, dreams are a little something more." She bent over him and whispered in his ear. "It's only my body that's having trouble with those pesky memories. My spirit still knows the truth, and I know you're really in trouble right now."_

_That sounded like something Nesbitt had told him in a dream during the time Gozaburo had forced a very selective magical amnesia on him. Maybe . . . maybe Lector would allow himself to believe this was real, that their spirits were actually communicating through his dream. It was a pleasant and comforting thought._

_". . . My friends all think I'm dead," he said morosely. "I don't know how to let them know I'm alive, or to get to them. . . ."_

_"You'll find a way," she told him._

_"I don't know if I should stay here and wait to be found or to go out and try to get back to them," Lector said. "I don't feel like moving. But . . . there's no guarantee anyone will find this place. I could be miles away from the city!"_

_"You are a good piece away," she said. "But if you leave here, you've also got no guarantee you'll meet up with them today. You might be stranded alone in the cold come nighttime." She paused. "Of course, on the other hand, there's no food here. . . ."_

_"I know," Lector sighed. "I'm afraid I'll have to leave and try to get to them. I know they'll be looking."_

_"They are, child. They all love you so much. And I still do too. If it'd been up to me, your daddy never would have had the chance to do all those horrible things to you. I'm ashamed of him, and of most of the rest of the family!"_

_"You know . . . everything?" Lector said in surprise. "Mother wanted to try to keep it all from you. . . ."_

_"I still heard things," she said. "Mostly on the news in the recreation room. Oh, if only I could have been there to do something! . . ."_

_"I wish you had been," Lector admitted. "It's so lonely in New Orleans now. I'm grateful Evangeline and Gabriel still love me, but I can't help remembering when everyone did. . . ."_

_"Anyone who stopped loving you never really loved you in the first place," she said. "You don't give up on people when they take a wrong turn. You help them get set right again!" She smiled at him. "And I'll help you on this journey, no matter whether you stay or go. I'll be right here for you."_

_"Thank you, Grandmother," Lector said softly._

Lector jumped, starting awake in the bed. For a moment he lay there, soaking in the memory of the dream-communication. Was it really real? Or was his mind making it up as a way of dealing with the situation? He sighed. He wasn't sure, but he knew what he wanted to believe.

He carefully turned over on the mattress to look at the window. It was daytime now, but the snow was still flying past the panes. He groaned, passing his left hand over his eyes.

What was he going to do? Would he stay? Should he go? He was so hungry. . . . And it felt much colder than when he had fallen asleep, so the fire had likely burned out sometime during the night. Without smoke coming out of the chimney, there was no way to even signal that he was there. But the storm was probably too fierce for airplanes or helicopters to conduct an aerial search anyway.

Finally he got the courage to push the quilt back and sit up. The cold swept over him and he shivered violently. When he tried to stand, he slipped and had to grab for the footboard to keep from falling.

"I can't go out like this," he exclaimed.

He limped into the front room and re-lit the fire. Then he all but collapsed at the table.

With his mind a little clearer today, he could really stop to think about what had happened the past night. He had survived going over a waterfall. There weren't a lot of people he knew of who could make that claim. He was probably in remarkably good condition, all things considered, even though he didn't feel very well off.

If he wasn't found soon, though, it would all be for naught. He pushed himself up again and started to go through the cupboards. If only there was something to eat! . . .

He wobbled into the sink and grabbed for it with both hands. If he possibly did try starting out for help, he would have to find a tree branch or something he could use as a cane. The fact that there was no food made him feel he would have to try to find his way out. In his weakened state, he knew he wouldn't last long anyway without anything to eat, and if he was going to die either way, he would rather die trying to get home than just waiting for death to overwhelm him.

He limped back to the table and sank down at another chair. Maybe he would wait a little bit longer. If the snow eased up, then he could try to leave and start walking. On the other hand, though, if it eased up, they might start an aerial search and then the smoke from the chimney would be seen.

"I don't know what to do," he realized in dismay. There were pros and cons for each option. Although the more he thought about it, the wiser it seemed to stay here, at least for now. And if he did struggle to leave, he would probably have to take the quilt with him. He hated to do that, but he wasn't sure he would survive the journey without extra warmth if he wasn't anywhere near help. When Spring came, he could always come back and return the quilt.

He looked around the little room. He had never been one of those people who liked small houses. Nor had he ever lived alone in his life. There had always been at least one or two servants, if no one else. This cabin felt very lonely. But it was shelter from the storm, so he was thankful.

He had noticed some blank paper and pens in one of the drawers. There wasn't anything else to do, so perhaps while he waited for either a break in the storm or the strength to leave—or both—he would use the paper to write to his loved ones.

He went back to the drawer and collected the items, then returned to the table and sank down close to the fire. For a while he just stared at the top sheet, tapping the pen on the wood as he tried to think of what to say. Then a few words came and he bent over the page, beginning to write.

_My dear brother, Nesbitt,_

_I pray we'll see each other again in this life. I can't really believe I'd survive the fall only to die starving or freezing while trying to get back to you. But I want to be prepared for anything, so I'm writing these words to you. . . ._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is after the Big Five open their penguin sanctuary. George is my OC, an Emperor penguin who adores them, and especially Nesbitt, for some reason! Lector's grandmother is also an OC of mine.

The day was long and agonizing. The snow never stopped falling, so Lector's dear friends had no choice but to look for him in spite of it. The professional search-and-rescue teams were looking as well, and had actually started their search before the others arrived. But no matter how far everyone followed the frozen river, they found no clues to Lector's fate at all. By the time night was coming on, everyone was exhausted, discouraged, and sorrowful.

"We're going to have to turn back," Seto said.

"No! . . ." Mokuba protested.

Seto sighed but gave him a look. "You promised, Mokuba."

Mokuba bit his lip and weakly nodded. "I know. . . ."

Seto looked to Crump, Nesbitt, and Johnson. "It's not likely we'll ever find his body," he said. "He and that lunatic are probably both at the bottom of the river."

Nesbitt snarled. Even after the fruitless day, he also couldn't bear to give up. "If we turn back now, how will we get back to this spot tomorrow in time to look more?" he snapped.

"If you stay, how will you survive the night?" Seto countered. "There isn't any proper shelter out here."

"How has Lector survived?!" Nesbitt boomed. "If he's had to struggle through the snow for over 24 hours . . . !"

"He hasn't survived!" Seto yelled back. "You just disproved your own point!"

Mokuba couldn't refrain from a weak gasp.

"Kaiba," Marik admonished. It wasn't like Seto to burst out something like that in Mokuba's presence.

"You just want him to be dead," Nesbitt ranted.

Seto actually flinched. "No," he rasped. "No, I don't."

"Come on, Nesbitt, you don't really believe that," Crump exclaimed. "Not after everything we've all been through over the past year!"

"Mr. Kaiba is just being logical," Johnson said quietly. "We can't give up on Lector, but . . . looking at all the facts, it isn't easy to consider the idea that he's still alive out here for us to find. . . ."

"Then you think he's dead too!" Nesbitt snapped.

"I don't want to!" Johnson cried.

"Stop!" Yugi ran out into their midst. "I know it's been a long day and we haven't had any luck and everything seems hopeless right now, but we can't start fighting with each other! That's the last thing Lector would want and you know it!"

Nesbitt turned away, refusing to say more.

Seto turned too. "Let's go, Mokuba." He grabbed the child's hand.

"Seto. . . ." Mokuba looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

Seto hesitated. His normal response was "I'm fine." But he wasn't fine, and he knew everyone knew it. What point was there in denying it even more?

"No," he said at last. "I'm not okay."

Téa looked to him with worried eyes. "Kaiba . . ."

Seto looked to her. He still wanted to talk to her, but this wasn't the time or place. He just kept gripping Mokuba's hand as they trudged back through the snow.

****

Gansley was still in his office at Penguin World when Crump, Johnson, and Nesbitt came in with matching expressions of defeat. Gansley looked at them, not sure if they had found nothing or if they had found Lector's body. Cell phone service hadn't worked in the canyons due to the storm, and by the time they were back in the city, they had determined it would be better just to talk to Gansley in person about the day's non-events.

"We didn't find him," Johnson said softly.

Gansley heaved a sigh. He had to be glad they hadn't found a body. But on the other hand, under the circumstances, was there really any hope regardless?

"And Nesbitt and Kaiba blew up at each other," Crump added.

Nesbitt turned away. "When you're ready to go, I'll be in my office," he growled.

Gansley started to get up. "I'm ready to go now," he said. "I've been here all day, and there really hasn't been much I needed to do." He looked at Nesbitt. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"What's there to say?" Nesbitt shrugged. "Kaiba wants to give up on Lector. I don't. I can't."

"Nesbitt wanted to keep looking when it got dark," Johnson said. "Of course, none of us wanted to stop, but it was still snowing and we hadn't found any clues at all. . . ."

"We just didn't know what to do," Crump said. "We could've kept going if it hadn't been for the storm. . . ."

Gansley sighed. "There wasn't anything else you could have done," he said.

Nesbitt hit the wall. "We could have not let the snow conquer us!" he boomed. "This is ridiculous! Why should it dictate what we can and can't do?!"

No one really had any answers for him. None of them liked what had happened or why. They all felt so helpless to save their precious friend.

Crump was the one to finally approach Nesbitt, reaching out for his shoulder. "Buddy . . ."

Nesbitt let Crump touch him, his shoulders sinking under the weight of his pain. "I . . . I'm not sure if I've ever felt this helpless," he said. "If there were advanced machines, they could keep looking for Lector even when the humans have to give up. . . ."

"Yeah. . . ." Crump swallowed hard. "You know, maybe you should try to invent something like that. It would be amazing and it'd help so many people. . . ."

"But I could never invent it soon enough to save Lector," Nesbitt said morosely. He pushed away from the wall. "Let's go home. . . ."

A knock on the door startled all of them. As they looked up, George the Emperor Penguin pushed the ajar door open and walked in, studying all four of them with his big, dark eyes.

Gansley managed a weak smirk. "George has kept me company most of the day. I believe he can tell something is wrong."

"I'm sure he can," Crump said. "Hey, Buddy. . . ." He reached out and petted George's head.

George trumpeted and nuzzled him, then went to Johnson, who also slowly reached to pet him.

Nesbitt watched as the large bird came over to him. George stared up at him, making a sad sound in his throat. Nesbitt just stared back. He and Lector had seen George on many of his antics. Seeing George now reminded him of Lector all the more.

Undaunted, George came closer and wrapped his flippers around Nesbitt's legs.

"He's tryin' to comfort you," Crump said.

"Nothing can comfort me," Nesbitt retorted. But he shakily petted the side of George's head. George leaned into his hand and warbled.

"He can see Lector isn't here," Johnson said. "He must wonder where he is. . . ."

"He's gone," Crump said sadly to George. "But we're still hoping to get him back. . . ."

"Do you actually think he understands what you're saying?" Nesbitt grunted.

"It's not impossible!" Crump insisted. "Just 'cause he doesn't speak human talk doesn't mean he doesn't get it!"

Nesbitt was hardly in a mood to argue.

****

Marik and Téa both accompanied the Kaiba brothers back to the mansion. Marik soon took Mokuba to get something to eat in the kitchen, while Seto and Téa initially hung back.

"You should get something to eat too, Kaiba," Téa said in concern.

Seto grunted. "I will." He hesitated. "But first I . . . wanted to talk to you about something."

Téa rocked back, staring at him in complete shock. "Huh?!"

Seto looked away and scowled, actually embarrassed. "I know it would be easier to believe that Hell would freeze over than that I'd actually want to talk about anything," he said.

Téa stepped closer to him. "I'm glad you do," she said softly. "It's not healthy to bottle things up so much like you do." She paused. ". . . Is it about Lector? I know you're upset about him being missing, even if Nesbitt isn't so sure. . . ."

"Nesbitt was angry and hurting," Seto said. "Maybe he meant what he blurted and maybe he didn't. It doesn't bother me. What does bother me is . . ." He brought a hand to his head. "Ugh, I don't even know how to say it. . . ."

Téa looked at him kindly. "Try starting at the beginning," she said.

Seto sighed. "You probably know that Mokuba loves Lector to the point that he wishes Lector was our adopted father," he said.

"Yeah," Téa said slowly.

"Should I feel the same about him?" Seto blurted. "Or do I already and I just won't let myself believe it?"

"Kaiba," Téa said in surprise.

"I never let myself believe I cared about him, or that he cared about us," Seto said. "Especially after Gozaburo really showed his true colors. And after the Big Five helped me take over KaibaCorp, I went back on my word and stripped them of their power, just like Lector said back in Noa's world. I know you heard it."

"It sounded like a pretty rotten thing to do," Téa said. "But did you have a reason, or were you just channeling Gozaburo's ruthless cruelty?"

"I thought I was protecting myself against possible betrayals from them," Seto said. "After all, if I could convince them to go against Gozaburo, someone could have got them to go against me. But . . . I don't know anymore that it was the right thing to do. I never thought I'd second-guess myself, especially on the past. Mokuba and Yugi and the Pharaoh and you . . . and even Wheeler and the others . . . you've all shown me a way to live that I never thought was conceivable or possible. And now I . . . wonder what would have been different if I had treated them better . . . and if there's any way I could open my heart to Lector now . . . if he's still alive. . . ."

"Do you want to?" Téa asked.

"I don't know that either," Seto growled. "But . . . I've been upset since last night . . . and I don't think it's just because of knowing how heartbroken Mokuba is. . . ."

"I think . . ." Téa mulled it over in her mind before speaking again. "I think you and Lector need to have a heart-to-heart about all of this. Even if you're not ready to think of him like a father, maybe he's a friend to you. That would also be a really big step."

"I know." Seto gripped his arms tighter. "And what if he's dead?"

"Then . . ." Téa blinked back forming tears. "Then somehow you'll have to come to terms with everything, even though you won't be able to talk it out with him. But all of your friends would be there for you, including me."

Seto averted his gaze. "I'm good at putting the past behind me and moving on."

Now he sounded more like the Seto Téa and Atem had been so frustrated with. "No, Kaiba," she shot back. "You're good at making yourself think you're good at putting the past behind you! What you really do is lock it up and try to ignore it until it swells up so much that it breaks free and you can't ignore it any more! That's what happened with your hatred of Gozaburo, it's what happened with what you did to the Big Five, and it's what's happening with whatever's going on with you about Lector! The past always comes back to bite you sooner or later and you really don't know how to handle that!"

For a moment Seto's eyes burned with fire as he glared at her. Then he whipped away and clenched his teeth. "Only a handful of people would ever dare to talk to me that way," he growled.

"And you know we're all right," Téa insisted. "And we . . . I . . . only want to help you, if you only won't be too stubborn to accept it!"

Seto was silent. ". . . Thanks for listening," he said at last. "I should have known you'd be very vocal about your opinions."

"Yeah, you should have!" Téa snapped. But she blinked, the fire dying in the next moment. "Or did you? I mean, you did pick me to talk to. . . . I'm sure it wasn't just random. . . ."

"I chose you on purpose," Seto agreed. He turned back. "I would like to believe Lector isn't dead, but the more time that goes by without finding him, the less likely it is. All of us are untrained and can't stay out in that weather indefinitely. If I could just get the trained professionals to work round the clock . . . !"

"Can't you?" Téa asked. "I mean, with all your money and influence, isn't there some way you can make them listen?"

"I'm going to try again," Seto said. "They haven't been easy to convince. Their usual policy is not to put themselves in situations where they could just end up the next victims instead of being able to help." He paused. "But you would actually want me to try to manipulate them like that?"

Téa sighed. "When you have the power to get people to do what you want, you should use it for worthwhile reasons." She looked away. "Doing everything we can to bring Lector back alive . . . that's a worthwhile reason."

Seto nodded. "I'm going to make some more phone calls." He headed for the home office.

Téa watched him go. "Good luck," she said softly. "You've come so far, Kaiba. . . ." She turned away. "And so have I. . . ."

****

Lector had long ago finished writing his letters to his loved ones. He had written one each to the rest of the Big Five and Mokuba and Evangeline, and one to Yugi and the others together, and had been left with one lone letter in need of writing. Figuring out the right words to say to Seto had been the most difficult of all, given their always-tumultuous relationship. He had pondered for a long time, writing and re-writing it in his mind several times over before at last determining what it should say and putting it on paper. Then, exhausted from last night's ordeal and the lack of food, he had fallen asleep over the table.

"Démas? Démas, you have to get up now and get out of that cabin!"

Lector jumped, startled back to awareness. "Grandmother?!" But he was alone, with only the crackling fire for a companion. Still, the urgent words from the dream burned in his heart. If he was to believe in the reality of their communications, then for some reason he had to get out. But why? It was the middle of the night and it was still snowing.

He pushed himself up and folded the stack of papers, placing them safely inside his suitcoat pocket. Then he struggled to stand. He had to get the quilt if he was going to leave. . . .

A disturbing rumbling reached his ears just as he arrived at the bedroom. "Oh no," he whispered. The heavy snowfall was too much for the canyons. Some of it was breaking free in a terrifying avalanche. If the cabin wasn't completely demolished, it would be snowed over, and either way, he would be trapped. He grabbed the quilt and ran with a strength he didn't know he currently had. There was no time to put out the fire; he had to get out!

He could feel the ground vibrating as he tore into the cold and fled for dear life. His badly injured body couldn't take the exertion; he lost his balance and fell into the snow. Behind him he could hear it coming . . . coming. . . .

Unable to stand, he scrambled on all fours, pulling the quilt with him. He only barely made it back into the stand of trees as the avalanche swept completely over the cabin, burying it under its force. The snow was still coming, and it picked him up and pushed him deeper into the trees before at last it came to a halt.

For a long moment he lay there, shaken and stunned and breathing heavily. When nothing more happened, he finally started to push himself up. "I'm alive," he realized. "I made it. . . ."

And he had only barely survived with the time he had had. If he hadn't been awakened until the floor was rumbling, he never would have got out.

"Thank you," he rasped, looking up through the trees at the night sky. Was he thanking his grandmother? God? Both? Something supernatural was obviously taking place.

And what should he do now? He looked back up through the trees at the new mountain of snow where the cabin had been. He could stay in the trees the rest of the night and then try to move, but what if there was another avalanche? It might force its way to where he was. He might have a better chance if he went back to the river and followed it. That should eventually take him back to the waterfall, after all. But . . . it was so cold and he was weak. . . .

He drew a shaking breath. If it continued to snow, the temperature wouldn't rise much by daytime. And he would be even weaker by then. He should go now.

He pulled the quilt around his shoulders with one hand while reaching for a fallen and dead tree branch with the other. He would use that as his cane. He had to have something to balance with.

It wasn't too hard to travel back through the trees to the shore where he had washed up from the river. The next question was which way should he go to get back to where he had been. The river was frozen now and he couldn't tell which way it was flowing. And with the sky covered in clouds and snow, he couldn't use the stars to guide him either.

"I'll just have to guess," he determined.

He paused. Or he could pray for directions. That didn't always work, but there were times when it seemed to, and with his grandmother clearly watching out for him it might work now.

I know I fell away, he said silently, but I am trying to return to the right path. Please, help me know how to get back, not even so much for my sake, but for the others. . . . Of course, he wanted to live too, but he was so afraid for his friends. He knew they would all be devastated and panic-stricken.

"Démas," his grandmother whispered in his ear. "Turn to your left. Walk that way."

Lector certainly wouldn't question it, not after everything else. He limped in that direction, using the branch for balance.

The snow was still blowing viciously. Despite the high collar of his coat, the flakes managed to repeatedly slap his face. He shuddered, gripping the quilt with one hand. Even with the branch for balance, he really didn't know how long he would be able to keep walking when he was both injured and weak.

It amazed him when he was able to keep going. After a while he sank into moving almost on auto-pilot. One step . . . then another step . . . and another. . . . He had to press on. He couldn't stop here. Sometimes the dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. Then he had to stop moving and lean heavily on the branch or sink to his knees. He didn't dare lay down. He had to keep going. . . . If he did, he would get back to the others. . . . He would see Nesbitt and Gansley and Crump and Johnson again. And Mokuba. . . . And everyone else. . . .

Somehow he always managed to struggle to get up again. After a while the ground began to slant uphill, making it harder to keep going. He stumbled much more frequently, but always fought to stand and plod onward. Moving uphill was a good thing; that meant he was drawing nearer to the waterfall. At least, that was what he told himself.

He still couldn't hear anything over the sound of the wind. Was the waterfall even still running? Maybe by now it was frozen too.

He could see something through the flying snow. Snowy nights like this were usually lighter than clear nights, and as he drew closer it became obvious that it was some sort of large cabin or even a house.

His heart leaped with hope. Would he be able to stay here for the rest of the night? If he could just walk the last little distance to the house, and if he could get in . . . !

It was all in darkness, though. Maybe no one was home. It would be too much to hope for that he would find it unlocked like he had the old cabin.

He was so desperate for warmth and shelter! It was tempting to use his branch to break a window to get in, if he had no other options. He hated to even think of doing something like that, but he didn't want to die. If he had to break a window, he would certainly pay to repair it when the weather cleared.

 _Please,_ he prayed. _Don't have brought me all the way here only to leave me without a way in!_

He had been running on sheer strength of will for he didn't know how long. Now, with the house in sight, he felt that strength faltering. He was still badly hurt, and so weak from the lack of food. He couldn't keep going.

He fell to his knees yards short of the porch. "No . . . please," he rasped. He wasn't about to quit! Instead he fought with all his might to pull himself forward using the branch. Now he was using both hands, trusting the quilt would stay on his back as he mostly crawled to the stairs. One step . . . two . . . three. . . .

He was on the porch at last. He collapsed, breathing heavily. For a long moment he just lay there, fighting to gather his strength one last time. He had to get inside! He couldn't allow himself to stay here; it would be so easy to fall asleep and never wake up. Somehow he forced himself to rise just enough to rap on the door with the palm of his hand. "Please . . . help me," he called as loudly as he could.

There was no response. If anyone was in there, they were probably asleep upstairs. And he couldn't wait any longer.

He forced himself to stand, wobbling violently and catching himself on the doorknob. Trying it got him nowhere; it was locked. So was the window next to it. The porch seemed to wrap around a good length of the house, but the thought of trying other windows and most likely finding them locked too was too much to bear. There was shelter right here, right now, and he had to have it!

Almost mindlessly he swung the tree branch and struck the window, shielding himself as glass flew in all directions. He only broke as much as he had to in order to climb inside, and at the moment he was too desperate to feel sickened by his vandalism. Still, he silently vowed to replace the pane as soon as he could.

Getting inside was another challenge. It was easy enough to lean in, but trying to actually climb was making him dizzy. Finally he threw the quilt over his head and just let himself fall through, crashing to the floor on the other side. Glass crunched under his weakened body and he groaned in new pain. He would have to move a little more and get out of this room with its new draft.

He couldn't stand again tonight. Moving meant crawling across the floor until he came to an open door. Then it was all he could do to push himself inside the room and shut the door before collapsing to the floor in a shivering heap, burrowed into his precious quilt.


	5. Chapter 5

At some point during the night, Lector managed to gather the strength to feel around the room until he found a couch. He pulled himself up on it and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

Awakening was a strange experience that came slowly, hours later. He opened his eyes, sleepily focusing on a picture of a landscape across the room. It looked familiar, but it wasn't something he kept in his house, or in one of his best friends' houses.

Of course it wasn't. He wasn't home.

He groaned as he pulled himself up and studied the room. It was definitely familiar. But . . . wasn't this the large cabin or summer house that he had broken into last night? It wasn't Johnson's, but he had absolutely been here before.

"Mr. Kaiba," he whispered in shock.

Yes, that had to be it. He was in Gozaburo's—and later, Seto's—summer house. Gozaburo had used it more than Seto had, but even Seto had occasionally wanted to get away. He had been here when Pegasus's henchmen had found him during the Duelist Kingdom tournament.

Well, at least Lector hadn't damaged the window of a house where someone was actually staying at the moment. But . . . what were the odds of him finding this place right now? How ironic, that Seto's house would be his saving grace.

Seto was always known to be prepared for anything. Was it possible that he would be storing some food in the kitchen or pantry?

That thought gave Lector enough strength to get off the couch and limp through the rooms until he found the kitchen. The sight of canned peaches and pears on the shelves was better than pure gold! He barely remembered to wash his hands before going through the drawers for a can opener and a spoon and taking some peaches to the table.

After not having eaten for so long, his stomach had shrunk and he couldn't eat too much before he was full, but it was a joy to be able to have anything to eat. He put the rest of the peaches in a bowl and stored them in the fridge, which was empty but plugged in.

It was probably too much to hope for that the Internet or telephone would be working and he could call for help. Seto's home office was upstairs, a new challenge to work on. But that would definitely be his next stop.

The stairs weren't actually as troublesome as he had thought, as long as he held to the banister. He just had to go slowly, one step at a time and resting a moment before conquering the next one. At last he was at the top and pushing the door open to Seto's office.

The boy had been here at least once since Duelist Kingdom, to repair the window he had jumped from, but otherwise things looked much the same. Lector sank down at the desk and reached for the telephone. As he had thought, the line was dead. He turned on the old computer to check the Internet connection, but it of course was also absent.

He sighed and leaned back. He could set a fire in the fireplace to try to alert rescue teams that he was here, but there was little else he could do. He should definitely stay here a while to regain what strength he could, especially since there was food, but if he wasn't found soon he would still want to start out again to try to get back on his own. He couldn't leave his poor friends to suffer worrying about him, and he wanted more than anything just to get back to them.

Checking all the drawers soon revealed a map of Domino Canyon. He studied it with a stunned frown. It wasn't that far away from town, actually, since Seto had managed to go from here to his home in the city within an hour's time. When Lector had been swept downstream, he must have ended up on a tributary of the river. This definitely wasn't the same path as the one where they had fought that madman. But if he could just gather the strength to leave, he might even be able to meet up with rescue teams looking for him.

It did look like the snow was starting to ease up, thankfully. Maybe he really would be able to leave before long. His friends would absolutely be looking for him even if professional rescue teams gave up.

He sighed and sank back against the chair. He really shouldn't get ahead of himself. He had walked who knew how far last night and he was still very weak, although the food had certainly perked him up more. He could try to wash his clothes and shower, but that sounded exhausting. He should probably keep as much strength as he could for going out again.

He tried the Internet connection and the telephone once more before abandoning the computer and going to lay on a couch in the room. Maybe he should just rest until he was hungry again. He didn't know how he was really going to make himself leave, and yet he knew he couldn't stay here for long. If only he could just be found. . . .

He slipped into a light doze but promptly shook himself awake. He had to go light a fire in the fireplace before dropping to sleep.

Going back down the stairs proved more challenging then going up. But he gripped the banister for dear life and moved slowly, step by step, until he was there. Then he took his quilt and made his way into the study, quickly lighting the fireplace before laying down on a couch near it to properly doze.

****

_Lector staggered through the snow as it continued to fall around him. His clothes were badly torn, revealing the cruel wounds all over his body. His eyes, which normally sparkled with life and fire and love, were vacant and dead. He was literally on his last legs; he took another step and could go no farther. He collapsed into the heavy powder and didn't move. Soon the pure white all around him was turning red._

"NO!"

Nesbitt flew upright in bed, shaking, the quilt falling from around his shoulders. He leaned forward, digging his hands into his hair. He had been plagued with dreams like that the past night and now this night too. The specific scenes were always different, but they always ended the same way: Lector laying dead.

The door creaked open and he jumped a mile. Crump had apparently gotten up before; now he was standing there and looking in with a sad expression Nesbitt dreaded with all his heart. That couldn't be good.

". . . They found him, didn't they?" he rasped.

Crump drew a shaking breath. "Kaiba got the professional search-and-rescue teams to go out most of the night," he said. "I dunno how, but you know Kaiba. He never gives up. And . . ." He rubbed the back of his neck. "They found the other guy."

Nesbitt leaped out of bed. "Where?!"

"It was pretty bad. Found his body stuck through the surface of the frozen river." Crump shook his head. "I'd say it serves him right, but . . . since he's dead, it . . . makes it look even worse for poor Lector. . . . Especially since . . . well . . . he had part of Lector's coat sleeve caught in his hand. . . ."

Nesbitt shattered. For a long moment he just stared at Crump, disbelieving. He couldn't have really heard that. . . . He couldn't. . . . What if the teams found Lector farther down the river, unceremoniously and cruelly stuck through the ice the same way?

No! That couldn't be true! It couldn't! Just because they found Lector's murderer didn't mean Lector was dead. Maybe he had pulled free and was still out there somewhere!

But . . .

That discovery had only been made after Seto had got the teams to stay out looking. It would have been made sooner if more ground could have been covered. What if . . . because of all the wasted time . . . Lector really was dead now, whereas he wouldn't be if they had been able to look for him as much as Nesbitt had wanted?

"No!" Nesbitt finally screamed. "No! . . ." He pushed past Crump and ran for the stairs. He didn't even know where he was going, but he had to get away. He couldn't deal with this right now.

"Nesbitt?!" Crump exclaimed.

"What are you doing?!" Gansley demanded from the bottom of the stairs.

Nesbitt ignored them both and flew past Gansley, grabbing his keys off the downstairs end table as he ran out the door and to his car.

Johnson panicked. "Nesbitt, where are you going?! You can't go to the canyons like that! Nesbitt!"

Nesbitt threw himself into the driver's seat and sped off, gripping the steering wheel for dear life. No, he wasn't going to the canyons. Not now. He wasn't sure where he was going, though. Just somewhere away. . . . Somewhere. . . .

He found himself pulling in at Penguin World sometime later. Still not taking the time to think, he just unlocked the doors and ran inside to his office. Then, alone and yet surrounded by memories, he collapsed in the corner.

Lector couldn't be dead. Nesbitt still didn't want to believe it. He wouldn't believe it. But the probability was growing higher and Nesbitt was feeling more and more helpless and despondent. He didn't know what to do now. And being here certainly wasn't helping him escape; he was remembering all kinds of memories involving Lector, even the most random and silly ones.

_Nesbitt barely looked up when George wandered into his office. Usually the penguin would walk the length of it and then go out to explore the next office, and the next. The first time it had happened, he and Lector had just stared in shocked disbelief. Even though they had known George tended to do those things, it hadn't really prepared them for the actual sight of it._

_And Nesbitt certainly wasn't prepared for George's next antics. The penguin gave a loud trumpeting screech and suddenly there was a heavy weight on Nesbitt's lap. Completely not expecting it, he yelped and fell back in the chair, pitching backwards on the floor._

_"Get off!" he exclaimed. Crump had said Emperor penguins could weigh up to 100 pounds, and it felt like George was fulfilling that in every particular._

_George also had no intention of moving. He just made another sound in his throat and stood there, staring down at the shocked Nesbitt and waving his flippers._

_Footsteps ran up the corridor and then Lector was standing in the doorway, gawking at the scene before him. "Nesbitt?!"_

_Nesbitt was trying in vain to push George off his lap without hurting him. The penguin wouldn't budge. "Help me get him off!" he sputtered._

_Lector hurried over and tried to lift George from behind. The bird shrieked, flapping his flippered wings. Nesbitt tried to gently push George into Lector's arms, growling as first one hand and then the other got slapped by the frantically flying flippers. Finally they succeeded and Lector stumbled back, setting the huge bird on the floor. "There," he said. "You're just too big! It's not appropriate for you to go leaping into people's laps like little Sammy does!"_

_George made a sound of displeasure in reply._

_"Do you actually think he understood what you said?" Nesbitt grunted._

_"I don't know, but it eerily seemed like it. Don't you think so?" Lector returned._

_". . . Yeah," Nesbitt grudgingly admitted._

_Lector held out a hand to help Nesbitt up. He took it, grasping Lector's hand as he pushed himself to his feet. Lector picked up the chair._

_"I hope that doesn't happen again," Nesbitt said._

_"So do I, especially if I'm not here to help you get him off," Lector replied._

George hadn't been appeased last night by Crump trying to explain to him about Lector being gone; on their way out, he had gone and stood in front of Lector's office door and stared up at it, as if expecting that any moment it would open and Lector would be there, same as always. Nesbitt hadn't been able to stand watching him.

The feeling that someone was there made Nesbitt jump a mile and look up. George was back again, having somehow opened Nesbitt's closed office door. He stood there, looking at the man with dark, round eyes.

Nesbitt just stared back at the majestic creature. Somehow, today the sight of him felt welcoming . . . inviting. Around the others Nesbitt felt like he couldn't break. But here . . . here . . . and after such devastating news. . . .

He reached and picked George up, setting him on his lap. The bottled grief poured out and he sobbed, hugging the 100-pound, four-foot bird as he finally let his heart shatter into thousands of pieces.

George made a mournful sound and leaned in, placing his flippers around Nesbitt in his best attempt at a return hug.

He was entirely too human at times.

When Gansley, Crump, and Johnson pulled up moments later, having frantically chased Nesbitt to his current location, they found him still sitting on the floor in a tank top and pajama bottoms, clutching the Emperor penguin in grief.

****

Lector felt very sore when he started to wake up sometime later. No one had found him. He sighed, turning to look from the fire to the window. Still gray and cold, but the snow wasn't falling. Regardless, though, did he really think he could get up and walk to civilization? If he could make it to Dartz's home, he could call for help from there. But who knew how long it would take to reach his home under these circumstances? He could take the map, but with all the snow and how weak and hurt he was, it could be night before he could ever make it that far. Then he would be stranded in the middle of nowhere to sleep.

He groaned and burrowed into the couch pillow. He wanted to get home so badly, but he didn't want to be reckless and foolish about it. Maybe at least he should stay here today and set out early tomorrow, if he felt he could.

What if he couldn't? What if he had to stay here for weeks until he was healed or the snow melted or both? The thought was agonizing. He was safe here, as long as the food supply held out, but he couldn't be at peace knowing his friends were hurting so badly. He had to get back to them! If only the telephone or the Internet would work. . . .

He forced himself up and limped upstairs to the home office again. Just as before, no dial tone, no Internet. He folded the map and put it in his pocket before easing himself back up. It was afternoon now and it would be dark soon. It didn't seem wise to leave even if he wasn't so sore and hurting.

Did it even make sense at all to think of leaving any time soon? He paused at the doorway, gripping the doorframe as his strength waned again. He had been pushing himself to keep going, but he had survived going over a waterfall. He honestly didn't know of anyone other than fictional characters who could make that claim. And even in fiction, a waterfall was often seen as a death sentence. He could have been hurt worse, but that didn't mean he was in any condition to be traipsing all around trying to get back home. If he really let his body be honest with him, it would probably scream at him to settle down and stay here. It wasn't like he was selfishly living high on the hog while his friends were suffering; he needed to have the proper strength so he actually could get back to them without dropping dead along the way.

He heaved a sigh. Maybe he would stay, at least overnight. He could wash his clothes and have a bath; he knew this place had all the amenities. It would be nice to really feel clean again. And maybe a warm bath would soothe his aching muscles.

He limped down the hall to see exactly what he had to work with. But even as he did, dizziness swept over him and he swayed, crashing into the wall. He groaned, reaching for it to steady himself. Even though now he had food, he had still pushed himself one too many times. His body acted like it was just giving out on him.

He had to wait for the dizziness to pass before somehow managing to limp downstairs and collapse back on the couch by the fire. He was certainly right that he wouldn't be going anywhere today. He wasn't sure he would be moving again at all. He needed more rest, more food . . . but also medical attention and the peace of getting back with his friends. As long as he was worrying about them, he couldn't relax and he kept struggling to do more than he should. His body was telling him he couldn't do it anymore.

Weakly groaning, he pulled the quilt over himself and shuddered.

****

Of course Nesbitt, Crump, and Johnson had determined to head out again and look even more thoroughly for Lector. Yugi and the others planned to come as well. Gansley hated to stay behind, but once again he was waiting for them at Penguin World.

The search throughout the day was much more frantic, and for some, much less hopeful. The discovery of the villain's body in the river had sent many people's hopes plummeting even further than before. Mokuba was unable to stop from crying, and Seto was not in a good mood. Téa wanted to insist on believing the best, as did Yugi, Bakura, and others, but no one really knew what to think. When the snow started up again as the day wore on, some grew even more disconsolate.

Nesbitt stormed through the snow, clenching his fists. He had had enough of all of this. As far as he was concerned, if Lector was alive he would have been found before if people had been searching constantly. Once Seto had got the search-and-rescue teams to keep looking, that madman's body had been found. Would Lector's body be next?

Crump and Johnson both regarded him with worry. When he had calmed down enough at Penguin World to set George down and get up, he had closed himself off again and had just changed into the spare day clothes he kept in his office, prepared to go out and look for Lector. Trying to get him to talk had resulted in him screaming about not looking hard enough for Lector before and how it had led to this. He had barely spoken since.

"Nesbitt," Johnson tried again. "You're not blaming us, are you?"

Nesbitt glared ahead. ". . . I wish I'd insisted more on continuing to look for Lector no matter what. And I wish all of us had thought sooner of Kaiba trying to make it worth those people's time to keep the search going at night."

"We were all in shock that first night," Crump said. "I don't think any of us were thinking clearly."

"Except we knew we weren't equipped to look and you were getting hurt yourself," Johnson said.

"Well, I've had enough," Nesbitt snarled. "You can do what you want, but I'm not going back until I've found Lector, dead or alive!"

"Nesbitt!" Johnson exclaimed. "You can't stay out here!"

"Why not, especially if the search-and-rescue teams stay?!" Nesbitt shot back.

"You're not gonna stay with them, though, are ya?" Crump frowned.

"I'll go where I have to, even if that means going on my own," Nesbitt said. "They gave everyone a walkie-talkie; it's not like I won't have a way to communicate."

Crump heaved a sigh. He was growing less and less sure himself that Lector was alive, but he didn't want to give up hope. And he had to admit that Nesbitt had some good points. They were better equipped today; why shouldn't they look longer?

"We all wanna find him," he said at last. "And . . . I've felt awful myself about dragging you away, even though I know I really didn't have any choice before." He looked over at Johnson and they exchanged a nod. "We're gonna stay too."

"Good," Nesbitt growled.

"But we'll have to let Gansley know, somehow," Johnson said. "He'll be expecting us back."

"Then let him know," Nesbitt said. He marched on through the snow.

It only took the few minutes needed to contact Seto via walkie-talkie and ask him to contact Gansley with his satellite phone. Crump looked up through the swirling flakes and made the horrible discovery. "Oh no! . . ."

Johnson was also in equal alarm. "I can't see Nesbitt anywhere!" he exclaimed. "And the snow is already covering up his footprints!" He fumbled with his walkie-talkie. "Nesbitt?!"

It crackled with static. "I'm here. But I don't see you."

"Which way did you go?!" Johnson demanded.

"I went straight and then left," Nesbitt said.

"Can you see anything?" Crump asked.

"Other than snow? No," Nesbitt grunted. "But I'm going to start calling for Lector."

"He'll never hear you over the wind!" Crump exclaimed. "We probably won't either!"

Nesbitt tried anyway. And Crump was right; he and Johnson didn't hear a thing.

"This is really bad!" Crump cried. He was starting to slip into a panic, and with good reason, since he understood the most about snow and the cold and hypothermia. "We've gotta find him!"

"He can't be that far ahead," Johnson objected. "Let's just take the path he took."

"Or try to," Crump said. "Who knows where he turned left!"

Johnson ran a hand over his face. "We should have thought he might do something like this," he bemoaned.

"Actually, I'm surprised he didn't do it sooner," Crump said. "I guess finding that stiff really snapped him. And I can't blame him or anything, but now he's lost too!"

"We warned him he could get into trouble like this," Johnson said.

"And he tried to stay out of trouble, probably mostly for our sakes," Crump realized. "Now he just couldn't anymore; he got so upset about Lector." He held up the walkie-talkie and pressed the button. "Nesbitt, you gotta keep talking to us so we can try to find you!"

". . . I don't know what to say," Nesbitt grunted. "I can't see anything. There's just snow in every direction."

"Then how the heck do you think you're gonna find Lector?!" Crump couldn't help but burst out.

"I don't know that either!" Nesbitt boomed.

Crump drew a shaking breath. "I know you're just so worried. We all are. But how is this helping?!"

Nesbitt was silent. "I didn't realize the snow would swallow me up this quickly."

"Snow's nothing to mess with, that's for sure," Crump said. "That's why I tried so hard not to let you get away before. And I still can't hear you anywhere but on the walkie-talkie!"

Nesbitt swore. "I didn't mean to put you and Johnson in danger. Or myself. . . ."

"I know," Crump sighed. "Well, just keep talking. Sooner or later we'll havta catch up. . . ."

In his heart he knew they might not. But he had to believe in something or he would go crazy. He refused to think Nesbitt was lost to them too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kasumi is also an OC of mine.

Nesbitt snarled to himself as he continued struggling through the snow. He really had been foolish, hadn't he? Crump had known he would be in trouble, and Nesbitt should have known that wandering ahead into the blizzard wouldn't help anyone. Crump knew a lot about snow; now Nesbitt realized with chagrin that Crump had likely struggled to bottle up his own fear and panic concerning it and Lector's fate because of knowing how badly Nesbitt was already bent out of shape.

They all tried not to burden each other, didn't they? And they all scolded each other for doing exactly that. It was a bizarre and hypocritical go-around. And yet Crump would probably say it was touching in some way, that they were all trying not to hurt each other. But maybe they should be more open when disasters like this struck. Crump had no doubt been in more agony than Nesbitt had even consciously realized. Unless Gansley or Johnson had talked to Crump at a point when Nesbitt was unaware, he had suffered in silence. And when he knew all the ins and outs of the cold and hypothermia, he had probably been plagued with images of horror about Lector too.

I wonder if part of me thought that the others weren't really as upset and concerned as I was, Nesbitt thought. He didn't really believe that, but the idea troubled him anyway. Maybe he had thought the others were more likely to believe that Lector was dead, while he had kept desperately hoping it wasn't true. What if he had blamed the others out of his anger and anguish? Whenever trouble happened, he tended to become furious at whoever impeded what he felt needed to be done.

 _I haven't really improved myself,_ he decided in sorrow. _I've been getting along better with Lector and have ended up so close to him, but if I still get so angry and frustrated at the others when trouble happens, I'm not doing anywhere as well as I should. I still have a long way to go._

Part of him felt like going back and finding Crump and Johnson and admitting his wrongdoings. It wasn't something he wanted to say over the walkie-talkie. Still, another part of him kept seeing the images of Lector collapsing dead in his mind and that kept the fire burning in his heart that he had to press on. He couldn't very well turn back anyway; that would only get him even more hopelessly lost.

"Lector!" he screamed without much hope. How could he have ever thought that he would be able to make any difference and actually find the man in this swirling white? He had to hold out his hands to make sure he didn't crash into a tree or a boulder. All he could see in every direction was white. It was completely terrifying. And it certainly made him feel very small.

What would poor Lector think if he was lost in this, and while badly hurt on top of that!? What if he hadn't been able to see where he was going and he went over a cliff?!

What if that happened to Crump or Johnson while they were trying to find Nesbitt?

The impulsive man froze, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. If he ended up causing more of his friends to be hurt or killed, he would never forgive himself. He had been so caught up in fearing for Lector's safety and knowing he would blame himself if Lector was found dead that he hadn't even really thought about the others getting hurt. Not today. He had thought about it before, which was why he had grudgingly cooperated and left, but now he had just become so overwrought that he had snapped, tired of putting everyone else's feelings ahead of Lector's. He had even said that before storming out to come here.

He ran a hand over his face. "I didn't mean I didn't care whether they got hurt," he said morosely. "Of course I care. . . ."

"They know," a soft voice said next to him.

He jumped a mile. "Who's here?!"

The light pierced through the snow and he had to squint. A shining figure was standing just to his side, a small girl with mint-green hair. She looked like Lector's description of the angel Kasumi, the one who had restored him and the others to life after they had sacrificed themselves to save Lector from Khu.

"Oh, so now He sends someone?" he snapped. "Where were you when Lector needed someone?!"

"He had someone," she said softly. "He still does. But you need someone too. As do your other friends."

"And I've been crying out ever since it happened, but you only come now?" Nesbitt turned to fully face her. "The others have been devastated too. I know they'd like to make some sense out of this. But there really isn't any way to make sense out of it, is there? Lector's gone and probably dead and that's all there is to it. I've lost my best friend and there's a hole in my heart that can never be mended. It's the same for the others. And we're just expected to pick up and go on with our lives, but how can we when part of our lives died too?!" He towered over this child angel as he screamed. "I can't! I can't! Today I finally broke like the weakling I am, even though I've been trying to stay strong! And I'm realizing how little I've been there for my other friends! I haven't improved myself! I was an idiot to even think I did!"

"You're still learning about love and kindness and interacting with people," she said. "You have made some improvements, as Lector noted. It's true that you have more to do and much more to go, but your friends understand that. None of them blame you as you're blaming you." She smiled and took his large and cold hand between her small but warm hands. "Robert Nesbitt, you have so much love to give. It's very raw right now, but it's growing and developing each day. You're learning more and more how to behave, and when you have a setback, you just try harder to do better."

"I wish I could do better right now," he said morosely.

"You've been worrying about Lector and felt that more needed to be done. That's not wrong. And you were right, even if your approach could have sometimes been better." She paused. "And it's also not a sin or a sign of weakness to cry for your lost loved ones. Jesus cried too, at the loss of His friend Lazarus. And He cried even knowing that Lazarus was going to come back."

"But Lector can't come back," Nesbitt said brokenly. "He can't . . ."

"You don't know he's dead," she said.

"No, but the more time that goes on, the less likely it seems that we'll find him alive," Nesbitt said. "Especially in a storm like this! Anything could have happened to him!"

"Anything?" She gave him a tender smile. "That would include him surviving and even being safe right now."

"Can I believe that?" Nesbitt frowned. "Are you even really here? What if I'm imagining you?"

"If you were going to imagine anything, wouldn't you imagine Lector coming back to you instead?" she countered.

Well, he certainly couldn't deny that. ". . . You must know what happened to Lector," he said. "Won't you take me to him?"

"I don't need to," she said. "Your running off was a foolish and grief-stricken thing to do, but because you did that, Lector will be alright." Then in another flash of light she was gone.

Nesbitt stared after her, shaken. The area around her had lit up, revealing the outline of a large cabin or summer house through the blizzard. His heart gathered speed. Was it possible . . . conceivable at all . . . that everything she had said was the truth and Lector had found shelter there?

He ran forward, kicking up snow drifts as he tore towards the house. "Lector!" he screamed. "Lector?!" He tore onto the porch and desperately banged on it with both hands.

What was he doing? If Lector had survived, he still had to be badly hurt. He might not be able to come to the door. But . . . here was a broken window. . . .

Nesbitt climbed through the hole without a second thought. "Lector?!" He looked around, his heart thumping wildly. The place looked oddly familiar, but that was hardly what was on his mind right now. Where was his friend?!

The floor creaked and he looked up with a jerk. Lector was limping towards him, clearly hurt but alive. Unlike in Nesbitt's nightmares, his eyes still held life and love . . . and hope. "Nesbitt . . ." He stared, almost as in shock as Nesbitt was. "You found me. . . ." He wobbled.

Nesbitt came to life and ran over, pulling Lector close in his arms. "You're alive," he choked out. "Thank God you're alive. . . ."

Lector hugged back, badly trembling from the effort. "I knew you'd never give up on me," he whispered.

"None of us have given up," Nesbitt said. "Come on and sit down and I'll call the others."

"What about Mokuba?" Lector demanded. "Is he safe?"

"Yeah," Nesbitt said. "He's just really worried about you."

Lector relaxed. "Maybe we could go in the kitchen?" he ventured. "There's some food here and I must confess I've been eating it. . . ."

Nesbitt stared at him. "Of course we can go in the kitchen," he exclaimed. "Have you been here most of the time?!"

"No," Lector said. He leaned heavily on Nesbitt for balance as his friend guided him to the kitchen table. "It's quite a long story. . . . Can you also bring me the bowl of peaches in the fridge?"

Nesbitt made sure Lector was safely in the chair before going and getting the bowl. "How badly are you hurt?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Lector said. "My right arm is wounded and I have other, smaller cuts and bruises over my body. I haven't had anything to eat until earlier today. . . ." He started in on the peaches with relish.

"I'll have everyone come here," Nesbitt promised. "There's a doctor with the search-and-rescue team." He took out his walkie-talkie.

"It's Mr. Kaiba's summer house," Lector said.

Nesbitt almost dropped the device. "That's why it looked familiar," he realized in disbelief.

The walkie-talkie crackled. "Nesbitt?!" Crump sounded frantic. "What the heck is going on?! Where are you?! I've been trying and trying to get through to you and this stupid thing hasn't been working!"

Quickly Nesbitt pressed the button. "The connection must have gone out because of the storm," he said. "I'm alright! And . . . I've found Lector. He's alive!"

Complete silence. "WHAAAT?!" Crump yelped.

"Is Lector really there?!" came Johnson's voice.

Lector reached over and pressed the button. "I'm here," he rasped. "We're at Mr. Kaiba's summer house."

"Kaiba?!" Crump said in disbelief. ". . . Well, how about that. . . . Lector, you sound awful! I mean, it's so amazing to actually hear from you, but you must be really badly hurt!"

"I feel a lot better now that I know you know I'm alive," Lector said. "I am so sorry for everything I've put you through. . . ."

"It's not your fault," Crump exclaimed. "Just hang tight and we'll be there soon!"

Lector returned to eating the peaches. Not wanting to disturb him, Nesbitt just sat and watched and marveled.

"This isn't a dream, is it?" Nesbitt gruffly said when Lector finished. "It feels like it can't be real . . . that I must be hallucinating out in the snow. . . ."

"Honestly, I feel the same," Lector said. "I keep wondering if I'm really still asleep on the couch and this isn't happening. . . . I was afraid no one would find me and I'd have to stay here for weeks knowing all of you were suffering so much. . . ."

"Us?!" Nesbitt retorted. "Look at you! You've been suffering so much yourself, but you're thinking about us!"

"Knowing what you were going through . . . made my suffering a whole lot worse," Lector said.

Nesbitt shook his head. "That's just like you."

". . . Does Evangeline know what happened to me?" Lector asked after a moment.

Nesbitt sighed. "We thought we should tell her last night, but then we didn't. We kept dreading it and hoping so much we'd find you. . . . No, she still doesn't know."

"That's probably for the best," Lector said. "She has enough on her plate right now." He started to push the chair back. "I think I'd like to wait for the others on a soft couch. . . ."

Nesbitt hurried to help him. "You should!" he exclaimed. "If this wasn't even your first stop, you must have been running yourself ragged!"

"It . . . hasn't been fun," Lector said. "But I think I'd rather only explain it once, when everyone's here. . . ."

"Gansley's back in the city," Nesbitt said. "He figured he wouldn't be able to help look." He went into the study with Lector and eased him down on the nearest couch.

"Oh, that's true," Lector said in chagrin. "Poor Gansley. . . . It must be even harder for him to have to stay back. . . ."

"He wasn't happy about it," Nesbitt agreed. "But George has been staying with him."

Lector smiled a bit. "George certainly is an affectionate penguin."

"You don't know the half of it." Not wanting to detail his meltdown, Nesbitt instead focused on the quilt Lector was pulling around himself. "That doesn't look like something Kaiba would have. . . ."

"I got it from my first stop," Lector said. "I'm afraid I took it with me. . . . I didn't know how I'd manage to travel through the snow without it."

"You can return it later," Nesbitt told him.

"It'll have to be a lot later," Lector said. "The entire cabin was buried under an avalanche." He frowned. "Maybe when the snow melts, the whole place will have caved in."

Nesbitt stared in horror. "You were caught in an avalanche?!"

"I just barely escaped it," Lector said.

Out in the entryway, the doorknob rattled and then opened as Seto unlocked it. Small feet pattered through the house in the next instant. "Lector?!" Mokuba tore into the study, taking in the scene with complete joy. "Lector . . . !" He ran over, hugging the man as he cried thankful tears. "You're okay! . . ."

Lector held him close. "I'm going to be just fine," he agreed. He could believe that now. "How about you, Mokuba?"

"I'm just fine now too," Mokuba said, snuggling close.

Crump and Johnson were right on Mokuba's heels. "Buddy!" Crump hugged Lector around the shoulders, while Johnson settled for taking hold of one of Lector's hands.

"We've all been so worried," Johnson choked out.

"I know. I'm so sorry," Lector said again. He squeezed Johnson's hand and reached up to lay his other hand on Crump's arm.

Seto and the rest of the group held back in the doorway, parting only to let the doctor through. Many exclaimed in joy and relief, but Seto stayed silent. Lector couldn't help noticing, however, that the boy's eyes were filling with peace.

"Mr. Kaiba, I'm afraid I broke your window," Lector said. "I'm sorry. I'll replace it. . . ."

Seto's look changed to disbelief. But then, gruffly smiling, he replied, "Don't bother. I'll take care of it."

Standing next to him, Téa smiled too.

****

Gansley was sitting in his office with George when Seto reached him via satellite phone and brought the incredible news. "Lector's been found," he announced. "Alive." The phone crackled with static. In a storm like this, even a satellite phone didn't have the best connection.

Gansley gripped the phone. Alive. . . . He couldn't stop worrying completely, but the burden on his heart lessened exponentially. "How badly hurt is he?!"

"I waited to call you until the doctor examined him," Seto said. "He's extremely shaken up and weak. He's chilled even though he found shelter. But he's rallied a lot just since we've been here. Apparently a lot of his anguish was because of worrying about the rest of you and Mokuba, knowing how you'd all be suffering worrying about him."

Gansley stared at George, who was perked up and staring at the phone with wide-eyed interest. "He's going to live then?" he demanded. "And without any life-altering injuries?!"

"Yeah," Seto said. "Most likely. The doctor wants to examine him again when we get back to the city, but he feels like the best medicine would be for him to go home with all of you. After everything you've all been through, I'm sure you can take care of him just fine."

"Yes," Gansley said as his heart swelled. "Of course." He petted George. "Thank you, Mr. Kaiba."

"We're all coming back now," Seto said. "You'll see him soon."

Gansley hung up the phone in increasing joy. "He's alive," he said to George. "Lector is alive and he's coming home to us!"

George trumpeted and flapped his wings.

Gansley smirked and held him close. "You know, I actually think you do understand," he mused.

****

Gansley was ready and waiting when the rest of the Big Five arrived at Lector's house. As the door opened, Gansley pushed himself off the couch and made his way over, staring in awe at his returning friend and son. "Lector . . . !"

Lector limped to him and pulled him close in a hug. "Father," he whispered.

Crump grinned, pushing the door shut behind them. "Everything's okay," he said. "We're all together again, just like we're supposed to be!"

"Can we get you anything, Lector?" Johnson asked.

Lector held onto Gansley for a long moment before looking up. "I really need to take a shower or a bath," he said.

"Seriously?!" Crump exclaimed. "After all you've been through?!"

"That's exactly why I need to," Lector countered. "I promise I'll be careful and I won't be long. I really want to feel clean again."

"You can barely stand on your own!" Nesbitt objected.

"I'd better make it a bath," Lector agreed. "Except for when I wash my hair."

Gansley sighed and shook his head. "Nothing we say will dissuade you, will it?"

"I don't think so," Lector said. "I've been longing for it all this time."

"Well, if you're gonna do it, just know that we'll be right ready to fly in if we hear you start to fall!" Crump said, and Johnson nodded in agreement.

"I know," Lector said. But even the thought of being seen like that didn't keep him from being determined to try. He limped upstairs with the others' help and collected what he needed before going into the bathroom.

The others were still in awe and stunned shock over Lector's return. Even knowing he was right there, starting to take a bath, it still seemed too impossible to be real. They had all feared he hadn't survived that fall or the cold. But he was there.

Nesbitt heaved a tired sigh as he looked at Gansley, Crump, and Johnson, all standing near the door just in case of being needed to help. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" Crump blinked.

"For being me again." Nesbitt looked away. "I realized while I was out in the snow that while I tried not to fall apart around any of you like you saw me do with George, I also didn't really try to help any of you by getting you to talk out your feelings or anything like that. I wasn't there for any of you like I should have been."

Gansley sighed. "You were so caught up in horror and grief about Lector and what was happening to him that it eclipsed all other thoughts and feelings you might also be having," he said. "Had Lector stayed missing—Heaven forbid—I believe you would have tried to be there for the rest of us as time went on. Although I know it probably wouldn't have ever been easy for you, given how deeply you care about Lector. When we thought you were dead in the Duel Monsters' dimension, Lector said he felt like his soul had been torn in two—and he wasn't able to offer comfort to any of us because he was so lost in grief himself. You felt the same with the situation reversed."

". . . That's true," Nesbitt said. "That is how I was feeling. But I'd be devastated if any of you had been the one to be lost. That was why I had so much trouble with Lector for a while, because of things happening to the rest of you and I was so overwrought when I didn't think Lector was leading the way he needed to."

"People are complicated," Johnson said. "I've been learning that over and over through the years. Even when I think someone is predictable, like Joseph, they end up surprising me in so many ways." He smiled at Nesbitt. "It's the same with you."

"I feel more like I'm predictable all the time," Nesbitt grunted.

"It was certainly a surprise last year in New Orleans," Johnson said. "No one realized the depth of your caring in general until then."

"And you surprised us with how deeply you and Lector have bonded," Gansley said. "We hoped you would come to see each other's strengths, as we had, but we never really expected the intensity of your feelings. You don't have to apologize for how you behaved in this mess, Nesbitt. I doubt any of us did all that we could. And as far as your distress that enough wasn't being done for Lector, well, you were right."

Crump and Johnson nodded.

"You really pushed us to keep going and find new solutions," Johnson said.

"And you found Lector!" Crump added. "If you hadn't wandered off, who knows how long it would've taken us to find that other path and the summer house! None of us even considered Lector might be there!"

"And . . ." Gansley looked haunted. "I don't know how long Lector would have lasted without the proper care. . . ."

"Those are things she said too," Nesbitt muttered.

"She?" Johnson blinked.

The sound of Lector slipping came from inside the bathroom and Nesbitt forgot all thoughts of explaining about Kasumi. "Oh no you don't," he snapped. He burst through the door right ready to grab for his friend, shoving the shower curtain back.

Instead, Lector had caught hold of the towel rack. "I'm alright, Nesbitt," he insisted.

But Nesbitt had caught sight of the bruises and cuts not previously visible. He stared in horror, his stomach sinking. "Lector . . ."

Lector quickly pulled the shower curtain back. "I'll be out in a few minutes. I just have to rinse off."

Nesbitt turned away, shaken.

Lector hadn't even turned on the shower yet. But as he did and the water started to beat on him, he went stiff. He hadn't anticipated this problem at all. The shower wasn't at all like the waterfall that had swallowed him and almost hadn't let him go, but just that feel of the water all over him, pelting him, was reminding him of it. He was a good swimmer, even, but he had been powerless against the force of the waterfall.

He shook, both hands flying to his wet and soapy hair. "No . . . no . . ." he whispered. He slowly dropped to his knees, but that made it worse. The water was hitting him from every side that way. He staggered back to his feet. Every wound was stinging, just like when the water had hit them before.

It wasn't the waterfall. He could get out any time he wanted, or adjust the flow of the water. . . . He had power over this. He wasn't going to show this ridiculous weakness to the others. He wouldn't scream. . . . He would just quietly finish his shower and get out of the tub.

True to his word, Lector was out within five minutes—and he found Nesbitt right there, waiting for him. He had to smile. "You weren't going to take any more chances, were you?"

"Of course not," Nesbitt grunted. He backed up to the door. "I'll be right outside."

Left alone again, Lector shuddered as he tried to push aside the haunting association of the shower with the waterfall. For a moment he stood at the sink, gripping the edges with his sore hands as he breathed heavily and tried to calm down. He had hopefully made it without scaring his poor friends worse than they already had been. Knowing they badly wanted to know he was alright, he wrapped one towel around himself and took a second to dry at his hair before opening the door and stepping into the hall.

He was touched and slightly in disbelief to see all of the others spread out in the hall, each in a position to quickly jump for the bathroom door if needed. "I'm alright," he said again. "I'll just go to my room and get dressed now."

Gansley had to marvel at how stubborn Lector's hair was. Even wet, it soon stood on end again.

Lector had somehow managed to keep going all these hours and days. But as he went into his room and slowly got into his shorts, the weight of it all crashed on him. He sank into the bed without his pajamas, shaking. "Oh. . . ." He passed a hand over his eyes.

"Lector?" Nesbitt was in the doorway now. "All the wounds you have. . . . They need to be taken care of. Will you let us . . . or me . . . ?"

"Come in," Lector said with a weary gesture.

He felt awkward to need to be taken care of like this, but he held still as Nesbitt set to work cleaning and bandaging each cut. The others helped by handing him things from the first aid kit. Lector closed his eyes and tried to relax. In some way, in spite of his embarrassment, it felt comforting to know he didn't have to struggle to do everything now. He could let his friends take over.

At last Nesbitt stood back. "There," he rasped. "That was the last one."

"Oh Buddy. . . ." Crump shuddered. "You got hurt so bad. . . ."

"That you survived is a miracle," Gansley declared. "To say nothing of the fact that you're not in far worse condition than you are."

"I know," Lector said. "I don't know how I pulled through. . . ."

Johnson, who had mostly been quiet, looked away. "It shouldn't have happened at all," he said. "You always have to suffer so much, Lector. . . ."

"So do all the rest of you," Lector frowned. "I know all of your hearts were shredded."

"Yes," Gansley said. "We've all been heartbroken that we couldn't save you."

"You did save me," Lector insisted. "Thinking about all of you kept me going. And I don't know where I'd be if Nesbitt hadn't found me." He squeezed his friend's hand. "Your reckless nature paid off this time, for all of us."

Nesbitt bowed his head. That was still overwhelming and incredible to realize. He had really saved Lector, after being so in agony about Lector suffering. . . .

"Of course, it was still a foolish thing to do," Lector continued. "But I am so grateful."

"We all are," Gansley said.

"Are you hungry or anything, Buddy?" Crump asked.

"I am, but I'm also exhausted," Lector said, "and right now I believe I'm more tired than hungry."

"Then you should rest," Gansley said. "We'll all be here if you need anything."

"I know," Lector smiled.

He stumbled up after a moment and finally got into his pajamas. Then he crawled under the quilt instead of laying on top of it. Crump pulled it up around him, marveling for a moment at the feel of his shoulder rising and falling as he breathed.

"Do you think somebody should stay in the room with him?" Crump wondered as they stepped into the hall. "You know, just to make sure he's okay?"

"Oh, I think we have that covered," Gansley said. Nesbitt was still inside the room, staring down at Lector in the bed.

"Nesbitt likely needs that as much or more than Lector might," Johnson said quietly.

Crump laid a hand on Johnson's shoulder. "It's okay, Pal," he said. "I'm angry this happened too, but at least Lector's safe."

"Yes," Johnson said. He glanced back at the room. "I guess sleeping is probably what all of us should do, if we can. We should be at full strength in case Lector needs us."

Gansley and Crump both agreed.


	7. Chapter 7

_The waterfall was vicious, merciless. It pounded hard, pushing Lector's body into the river underneath it. No matter how he tried to fight for the surface, it forced him back down again. He was growing weaker with every attempt, but still he refused to give up. He frantically clawed through the icy water, struggling to rise enough for one more breath of life._

_The one who had dragged him down was suddenly there, his expression twisted in a cruel sneer as he came from behind, grasping Lector's shoulders. "If I have to die, so do you," he hissed._

_"No!" Lector cried. He struggled in desperation, but it wasn't enough in his weakened state and he was forced down by both his human nemesis and the waterfall. The pounding of the water combined with the lack of air soon overwhelmed him. He sank farther down as death took over._

A bone-chilling scream from Lector brought Gansley, Crump, and Johnson all rushing back to his room before any of them had the chance to get ready for bed.

"Lector?!" Gansley burst out as they tore inside.

Lector flung the quilt back, nearly sending it off the bed. "I'm drowning!" he screamed. "I can't fight the waterfall and that madman both! They're pulling me under!" He thrashed wildly in the bed, the terror obvious in his eyes.

Nesbitt looked shattered. But in the next instant he snapped to, grabbing Lector's flailing wrists. "Lector, it's alright!" he yelled. "Wake up! You're dreaming!"

Lector started to pull away but stopped. "Nesbitt?"

"Yeah." Nesbitt bent over the bed and embraced his friend. "It's all over now. You're safe."

Lector slowly hugged back. "Nesbitt . . . I'm safe because of you. . . ." He slipped back to sleep, his grip loosening on Nesbitt. A smile played on his features.

"I wondered how he was taking it so well," Gansley said quietly. "Naturally, with Lector being Lector, he would have to try. But the trauma he went through had to come out somehow."

"Poor guy," Crump whispered.

Johnson reached and gently pulled the quilt back up around Lector. "The night's cold. . . . He'll want this. . . ."

Nesbitt hesitated for only a moment before climbing onto the bed's other side. "Lector did this for me when he thought I might fall off and hurt myself worse in New Orleans," he said gruffly. "I won't let that happen to him."

"You may be in for a wild night," Gansley said.

"I don't care," Nesbitt retorted. "I'm staying."

"And Lector looks pretty peaceful," Crump noted. "Maybe everything will be okay."

Johnson had to smile a bit. Lector did indeed look at peace. With any luck, maybe there wouldn't be any further outbursts tonight. And if there were, Nesbitt was right there to help him. That was more than enough reason to look peaceful.

****

Lector started awake in the middle of the night, half-expecting to find himself laying curled in a desperate ball for warmth under the old quilt. Instead, he was safe and warm and clean in his bed . . . and Nesbitt had draped a protective arm around him.

He looked over at his friend in touched amazement. Nesbitt wasn't someone one would immediately think of as affectionate, but in the end he really was quite that way when he allowed that side of him to show.

"Lector?" Nesbitt opened his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. . . ." Lector rose up at another realization. "You're laying on top of the covers again? You'll be cold. . . ."

Nesbitt shrugged, awkwardly. "I feel pretty warm."

Lector had to smile a bit. "You're a good friend, no matter what you think of yourself." He hesitated. "Did you find what happened to the man who pulled me over the cliff?"

"He's dead," Nesbitt said flatly.

". . . I see." Lector frowned now. "That must have made it even harder for you to deal with what happened to me. . . ."

Nesbitt couldn't deny it. "It made it seem even less likely that you'd survived."

"I'm sorry," Lector said quietly. He glanced down at his ring. ". . . Was he still wearing that magical object he was trying to use?"

". . . You know, I never thought to ask," Nesbitt realized. "If he wasn't, it's probably at the bottom of the river. Good riddance."

Lector sighed. He would agree, only he had to wonder if it might be found and used by someone else. It was something they would have to look into later.

Nesbitt hesitated. "Lector . . . when I was out looking for you tonight, I saw a little girl I think might have been that angel you talked about. . . ."

Lector started, stunned. "You did?"

"She talked to me a little bit, but then she disappeared and I found the house," Nesbitt said. His grip tightened. "We tried so hard to find you, Lector. . . . We looked everywhere, but we just didn't have any success. The police and the search-and-rescue teams were sure we'd never find you. . . . They thought the force of the water and the rocks would have probably . . . mutilated you. . . ."

"But I'm alright," Lector said quietly. "And I'm alright because of you."

"I know that now, and yet it's hard to really comprehend," Nesbitt said. "I keep wondering if this is the dream."

"So do I, some," Lector said. "But I know it's real."

Nesbitt hugged him close. "I really know too. But it still feels so incredible."

"No arguments from me," Lector said. It felt so good to be back with his loved ones, where he belonged. He didn't like being alone, and now he didn't have to be anymore.

Although even when he had been cold and wandering, he hadn't been alone. . . .

"Lector?"

He could hear the confusion and concern in Nesbitt's voice. He smiled. "I'm alright," he said. "I was just thinking. . . . Something happened to me while I was lost that I know happened, and yet I also know it couldn't have happened. Does that make sense?"

Nesbitt grunted and shrugged. "There's not a lot about our lives that makes sense anymore. What's your story?"

"My grandmother was there," Lector said.

Nesbitt sat up. "Your grandmother?! The one who's back in New Orleans thinking she's five years old?!"

Lector winced at that sadly accurate description. "Yes," he said. He eased himself onto his back to look up at Nesbitt. "Only she was an adult in her mind when she came to me. She said it was just her body having trouble with her memories . . . just like you did when your spirit communicated with me while you had amnesia."

"That was in a dream, though," Nesbitt said. "This wasn't?"

"Not entirely," Lector said. "For one thing, she woke me up two different times when I needed to get up. I felt her there! But . . . that's impossible, isn't it? She couldn't be in New Orleans and in Domino Canyon at the same time. . . ."

"I don't even know what's impossible anymore," Nesbitt said. "But she saved your life, so I'd say that somehow it must have been real, even though it couldn't be."

Lector smirked a bit. "That's about how I have it figured too." He sank deeper into the pillow again.

Nesbitt laid back down. "I guess tomorrow you'll want to call the place where she is or something?"

"Yes," Lector said. "At least I want to tell her I'm alright . . . and to thank her. I don't see any point in asking the workers there if she's been there the whole time. They'd think I'm crazy."

"Probably right," Nesbitt said. "I don't, though."

"But you know me," Lector pointed out.

"Yeah." Nesbitt let his gaze drift to the nightstand, where Lector had placed a stack of papers earlier that night. ". . . What's that stuff you brought back with you?"

Lector stiffened slightly. "At my first stop, I found some paper and started writing some letters . . . in case I didn't make it back," he explained. "I don't know if I should give them out now. . . . It might bring more of the hurt back, just when we're all trying to start healing."

Nesbitt stiffened too. He hadn't expected that. "Oh. . . ."

Lector sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have done it. . . . It seemed like a good idea at the time. . . ."

"It was a good idea," Nesbitt said. "You'd have no way of knowing . . . if you'd make it back. . . ."

". . . Would you still want yours?" Lector asked.

Nesbitt flushed to be put on the spot. "I . . . I don't know. . . . Is it things you would have said anyway, or does it talk a lot about death?"

"Mostly things I've wanted to say anyway and haven't been quite sure how to get into," Lector said.

"Then . . . yeah, I want to see it," Nesbitt said. "I think I would regardless, but it might have taken some time for me to be ready if it had talked a lot about your death."

"I just mention that a little bit at the beginning and the end," Lector said. He sighed. "I suppose most everyone would feel as you do . . . but I wonder about Mr. Kaiba."

". . . You wrote one to him?!" Nesbitt exclaimed.

"You can't deny that there's a lot of unspoken things between us that probably should be spoken," Lector said. "I decided that might be my only time to say what should be said on my part."

"I guess that makes sense," Nesbitt relented. "I don't know whether you should give it to him or not, though. It's always hard to say about Kaiba."

"I know," Lector wearily replied. "I suppose I'll sleep on it and see how I feel in the morning."

"Good answer," Nesbitt grunted. He relaxed further into the bed. After a moment, he slowly brought his arm around Lector again. "You don't mind . . . ?"

"I was hoping you'd do that again, honestly," Lector admitted. "It's nice to feel so protected and safe, especially after what I've been through."

"And nice to reassure myself you're here," Nesbitt said, even as he flushed a bit. He certainly hadn't been so open about his feelings in the past. It still felt awkward to do it, but it helped knowing that Lector and the others liked it when he was affectionate. He liked it too, for that matter—although it wasn't always easy for his pride to let him admit it.

Lector smiled, his eyes starting to drop closed again as he lay safe in his friend's embrace.

Nesbitt relaxed on the bed, letting his gaze travel around the room. With Lector home, all was as it should be. He reached down, pulling the other side of the comforter over him before sinking into a peaceful doze, his first since this had all started.

****

Crump was the first to awaken that morning. He started, sleepily looking around his room. Was he really remembering right, that Lector was back safe with them? What if it was a dream? Maybe their worst fears had come true and Lector was really laying frozen to death in the cold.

No, he was really sure it was real. Still, just to be safe, he got out of bed and crept down the hall to Lector's room. That was where they had left him, and Nesbitt. The door was still ajar, so he quietly pushed it open to look inside.

He had to smile at the scene. Nesbitt was still on top of the covers, but he had wrapped himself in the part of the quilt hanging over the side of the bed. Lector was under the covers, looking so peaceful and happy. It was real. It was all real. . . .

Crump turned away to let them continue to rest.

It wasn't entirely a surprise to find himself facing Gansley and Johnson coming down the hall. "How is he?" Johnson asked.

"He's great," Crump smiled. He headed for the stairs, not wanting to risk waking either of them with talking. "He's really home. . . ."

"It's incredible, isn't it?" Gansley said as he and Johnson followed.

"And hard to believe it's not a dream," Crump said. "But it's for real. . . ."

"Yugi and the others will be wanting to have a celebration in Lector's honor," Johnson said. "I think there should be one, of course, but only when Lector feels well enough."

"And I'm sure they'll take that into consideration," Gansley said. "He should probably spend most of the next several days resting, if not more." He sighed. "The doctor said that he ran his body down to highly dangerous levels. Of course, he couldn't help it. He had to do all that he did in order to survive. But now to keep him alive, he has to rest."

Crump hesitated. "You know, I had a crazy idea. I'd kind of like to bring George over here so he can see Lector's okay. He's been missing Lector a lot and he knows how sad we all were."

"What if he tries to jump on Lector's lap?" Johnson exclaimed.

"I don't think he would," Crump said. "Nesbitt's the only one he's ever done that with."

Gansley smirked in a bit of amusement at the memory. "Since George seems able to control himself and doesn't relieve himself wherever he goes, it would probably be alright for a short visit," he said.

Crump nodded. "Boy, Nesbitt was sure horrified when he walked in on me watching Mr. Popper's Penguins that time," he snarked. "He was afraid George would be like those guys."

"We're lucky he isn't, honestly," Johnson said. "And that's unusual for a bird."

"George does a lot of things that are unusual for a bird," Gansley said. "I wonder if he thinks he's a person."

"Some animals seem to," Johnson said.

The floor creaked and they looked up. Nesbitt was standing there, looking a little bit awkward but happy. "Lector wanted me to get all of you if you were up," he said.

"Yeah?" Crump blinked. "He's okay, isn't he?"

"He's fine," Nesbitt assured him. "He just wants to talk." He paused. "And maybe to give us all something."

Johnson looked surprised. "What would that be?"

"Let's go find out!" Crump headed for the stairs again.

Lector was resting comfortably in bed, propped up on his pillows, when the others came in. "Hello, my dear friends," he greeted.

"Hello," Gansley smiled. "How are you feeling today?"

"Very sore," Lector said. "But I'm so happy to be home." He reached for the papers on the nightstand. "I was talking to Nesbitt about these last night when he asked. . . . I wrote letters to all of you when I wasn't sure I would make it home. He said he still wanted his." He handed a sheet of paper to Nesbitt. "I wanted to give out the others, if all of you feel the same. . . ."

Gansley's eyes flickered with surprise. "Yes," he said. "I would like mine."

"You bet!" Crump exclaimed.

Johnson looked a bit emotionally overwhelmed, but he nodded as well. "Y-Yes. . . ."

Lector handed theirs out, then replaced the others on the nightstand.

"Who're those for?" Crump wondered. "I know you'd have one for Mokuba, and Evangeline . . ."

Lector nodded. "There's also one for Yugi and the others together . . . and one for Mr. Kaiba." He sighed. "I'm still not sure whether to give him his."

"Ooh . . . I'm not sure either," Crump admitted. "Maybe you could ask Mokuba what he thinks? I'm sure he'll wanna come over and see you today."

"Maybe that would be the best solution," Lector mused.

The room fell silent as the others all unfolded their letters and began to read. It wasn't long and the emotions began to fill the men's faces. Johnson actually choked on a sob. Behind his smooth front was a deeply loving and sensitive person.

"Thank you," he stuttered when he finished reading.

Gansley nodded. "I am so glad you finally felt able to call me ‘Father,'" he said. "You are absolutely my son, whether we make it legally official or not."

"And our best buddy!" Crump chimed in.

Nesbitt, as usual, wasn't sure what to say. But he looked at Lector with the emotions written across his features and finally laid a hand on his shoulder.

Lector smiled. They would talk about it later, he was sure. He would probably have in-depth conversations with all of them. But for now, this was just fine.

****

Crump was right that Mokuba came over that day. He arrived in the afternoon with hopeful, shining eyes.

"Hi," he greeted Gansley at the door. "Um . . . how's Lector?"

"He's doing well," Gansley said with a fond smile. "He's upstairs in his room. You can go up."

"Really? Thanks!" Mokuba hurried up the stairs and came to a halt at the doorway. "Lector?"

Lector was resting with a book. He set it aside with a warm smile. "Hello, Mokuba."

Mokuba came in, smiling back. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well," Lector said honestly. "I'm so glad to be home."

Beaming, Mokuba went to the side of the bed. "And I'm so glad you're here."

They talked for a few minutes before Lector reached for the folded papers. "Mokuba . . . when I thought I might not make it back, I wrote letters to everyone I wanted to talk to. The others said they still wanted theirs. How do you feel about having yours?"

Mokuba blinked in surprise. "I want it," he said softly.

Lector handed it to him. "I also wrote one to your brother. Heaven knows we have so many things we still need to work out. Do you think he would want his?"

Mokuba bit his lip. "With Seto, it's always hard to say," he slowly admitted, "but I know he's been super upset about what happened. He even got into an argument with Nesbitt. . . ."

Lector winced. "Nesbitt didn't mention that."

"He probably didn't wanna upset you," Mokuba said. "But I mean, I think it would be a good idea to at least ask if he'd want to have it. . . . I could take it and ask him. . . ."

"I wouldn't like to delegate my issue over to you, Mokuba," Lector frowned.

"Hey, I'm volunteering!" Mokuba countered. "Besides, I would probably know the best how to try to talk to Seto about it!" He sobered. "I'd really like to help, Lector. Please?"

Finally Lector smiled. "Alright. Thank you, Mokuba." He handed over the letter for Seto too.

"I'll let you know as soon as I talk to him," Mokuba promised.

After Mokuba left, Lector reached for his phone. He had tried calling his grandmother earlier but had been told it wasn't a good time for him to talk to her. If he still couldn't get through now, he would have to wonder if his mother was deliberately blocking his attempts. He wouldn't put it past her to order the staff not to let him talk.

To his relief, however, this time she was put on the line. "Hi, Démas!" she chirped in a childlike voice.

Lector's heart clenched. It hurt so much to hear her like that. "Hello, Grandmother," he said. "I wanted to let you know I'm alright . . . and to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"I don't know how you reached across the miles to me, but I know you did. And I know you saved my life, more than once."

"I saved you?" Still childlike, but with an awed tone now.

"That's right," Lector said firmly.

"I'm glad!"

Lector gave a bittersweet smile. Maybe he was wrong, but it really sounded to him like somewhere deep in her soul, she did know what he was talking about. After his experiences, he was sure she did.


	8. Chapter 8

_. . . Lastly, Mokuba, I want you to know that you are not only a dear friend to me, but still someone I wish was my son. Your biological parents were very blessed. Gozaburo completely ignored and didn't understand the treasure he had. But I also squandered that blessing when I allowed myself to become so angry at your brother that I participated in the Big Five's hateful schemes. I never wanted you to become hurt or involved, but if my mind had been clear and not filled with rage, I would have known you would always become involved because of your deep and undying love for Seto._

_Thank you for showing me your love and friendship, even when I didn't deserve it. I, and all of the Big Five, are better people for having known you._

_Goodbye._

Mokuba blinked back tears as he finished reading Lector's words to him. He would treasure this letter. Taking a deep breath, he took up the letter for Seto and went to find his brother.

Seto was working in his home office when Mokuba came in. "How's he doing?" he greeted.

"A lot better," Mokuba smiled. He shifted. "Um, Seto . . . ?"

"Yeah?" Seto grunted, still not looking over from where he was typing.

"Lector wrote letters when he wasn't sure he was going to be okay. . . . He wrote one for you too. He wasn't sure if you'd want it, especially now that he did make it out, but I said I'd ask. . . ."

Seto's hands froze on the keyboard. "A letter? . . . To me? . . . Why?"

"He said you said have a lot of stuff that hasn't been resolved," Mokuba explained. "If he was dying, he wanted to be sure to at least say what he felt he needed to."

Seto slowly turned around in the chair, his hands on his knees. He wasn't sure what to think. He would rather keep trying to put the past behind him, but Téa's words were echoing through his mind.

"You're good at making yourself think you're good at putting the past behind you! What you really do is lock it up and try to ignore it until it swells up so much that it breaks free and you can't ignore it any more!"

As much as he wanted to deny it, the examples she had then cited rang true. She was right; he was terrible at putting the past behind him. He needed to do something different. Maybe the only way to really get past it was to face it head-on.

He drew a shaking breath. ". . . I'll take it."

Mokuba beamed. "I was really hoping you'd say that." He held out the letter.

Seto took it, his hands shaking. Mokuba quietly backed out, rightly deciding that Seto should be alone when he read it.

For several minutes Seto just sat there, staring at the piece of paper without really seeing it. His mind was wandering, thinking of various memories from throughout the time he had known Lector. The man had always been good and fair to both him and Mokuba during the time he had helped raise them. It had been Lector's choice to turn against Seto later, but . . . if Seto had never betrayed him in the first place, maybe he wouldn't have made that choice. But Seto likely wouldn't have done what he had if not for Gozaburo. It was an endless round of blame and anger and hate. Seto and Lector had mutually chosen to end that cycle because of Mokuba, but they still had unresolved demons, as Mokuba had said.

At last Seto unfolded the letter.

_Mr. Kaiba—_

_Out of all the letters I have penned today, yours has been the most difficult to word. What do I say to the one I cheated and betrayed, and the one who cheated and betrayed me? Those times are past, but the hurt remains._

_I know it does little good to say it, but how I wish I could have known about your and Mokuba's sorrow with Gozaburo, and the cruelty and abuse he put upon you! I would have gladly taken you both in and made you my own. I honestly never wanted children until I met you and saw Mokuba's sweetness. How I wished he were mine! And I liked you as well, until you turned ruthless and cold. I know now that was Gozaburo's doing. If only I had known and could have steered you back from that lonely and heartless path._

_We committed many wrongs against each other. I have tried to do all I can to rectify my part of it, but I don't know if you have ever or can ever fully forgive me. I know you trust me with Mokuba, and now that I realize you do love your brother more than anything else, I know that there can be no higher honor from you._

_I wonder if in some way I did to you what my father did to me. I helped raise you, so in a sense I was your guardian, but I turned against you when you turned against me. You and I never really had a father-son relationship, and I know you never trusted me as I trusted my father, but I suppose it's still a similar principle. I should have been the bigger man. Instead I let your betrayal consume me, to turn me into a vengeance-driven, bitter, hateful wretch. I thought I was seeking justice, but I let my hate cloud my judgment and lead me into committing all manner of outrageous acts. I even dragged innocent people into it after wandering in cyberspace destroyed much of my sense of self. But there is no excuse for my actions, not even that._

_I have struggled with whether I have forgiven you for what you did. I feel that I am still angry about it, but I also know it's in the past. You are not the same person who turned against me and the others. I am not angry at the you of the present-day. I feel I have forgiven you. For you to have come as far as you have, and to change so much in how you treat me, how can I do any less if I truly have any honor left?_

_I am sorry that you were not my son, and even sorrier that I did not treat you like a father regardless. But I hope that even without familial ties, we will part as friends._

_Farewell._

Seto leaned back, slowly setting the letter on his keyboard as he stared off into space.

****

Gansley opened the front door as Crump pulled up in his car. He had to shake his head in amusement at the sight of George strapped into the passenger seat with a seatbelt. When Crump got out and went around to release George, the penguin hopped down and waddled up the walkway, trumpeting loudly as he examined the front yard and all the fresh and beautiful snow.

Crump grinned. "I figure after he says Hi to Lector, he can play around in the yard for a while before I take him back," he explained.

Gansley smirked. "You may attract the attention of everyone on the block. The next-door neighbor is already looking."

"Let 'em look! Penguins are majestic animals that should be looked at!" Crump said.

George hopped up the steps to the porch and walked over to Gansley with a loud greeting. Amused, Gansley reached down and petted him.

"Did he like riding in the car?" he had to ask.

"He was real good about it," Crump said. "I had the windows open and he liked the winter breeze coming in."

Gansley stepped aside and George walked into the house. For a moment he stood looking around, taking it all in.

"I hope this won't be a mistake," Johnson said in concern.

"It'll be fine," Crump insisted. To George he said, "Lector's upstairs, Buddy. Go find him!"

George shrieked and went to the stairs, hopping up each one as the men followed behind him. At the top he again took in his surroundings before heading towards Lector's door.

Both Nesbitt and Lector looked up as George waddled in. From Nesbitt's expression, he could scarcely believe what he was seeing. Lector was also surprised, but he recovered much more quickly. Amused and touched, he held out a hand to the large bird. "Hello, George," he greeted. "You see? I'm going to be alright."

George trumpeted and hurried over to the side of the bed. He leaned into Lector's hand and Lector petted him with a fond smile. George reached up, placing a flipper on Lector in a half-hug.

Crump snapped a picture from the doorway. "See?" he chirped. "This was a good idea!"

"We're all together again," Johnson acknowledged, and smiled too.

Gansley had to thoughtfully nod in agreement. "Together," he repeated. They had weathered another near-tragedy and come out on top. He didn't doubt there would be more problems in the future, but for now he wanted to focus on and celebrate the joy of what was.

"Hello? . . ." came a voice from downstairs.

Everyone jumped.

". . . I musta forgot to lock the door," Crump sheepishly realized.

"Then we're just lucky it's Kaiba wandering in," Nesbitt grunted.

Gansley went to the head of the stairs. "We're up here," he said to Seto.

"I won't be long," Seto said. "I just want to see Lector for a moment." He walked up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Lector looked up in surprise. "Mr. Kaiba. . . ."

George warbled.

Seto wasn't even going to ask why a four-foot penguin was standing next to Lector's bed. "I got your letter," he said. "I . . . don't entirely know what to say. Yes, you're right that we both did rotten things to each other. You and the others did the worst, but . . . maybe it wouldn't have happened if not for what I did. I . . ." He looked from Lector to the stunned others and then back. "I've been regretting that. If I had been able to accept and trust you in the past, Lector, all of our lives might have turned out very differently. There's nothing we can do about what's already happened, but at least we can change the future." He held out a hand. "Mokuba loves you, and I . . . I not only trust you by now, I care about you too. I'm glad you're going to be alright."

Crump and Nesbitt stared. Gansley and Johnson also looked surprised.

Stunned now as well, Lector slowly reached up and grasped Seto's hand. "I never thought I'd hear you say that, Mr. Kaiba."

"Neither did I," Seto grunted. "But it's true. I know that now."

"This is something you don't see every day," Crump exclaimed.

Lector laid his other hand on Seto's too. "But I am glad of it. Our relationship is deeper now than it ever was before."

Seto tightly gripped Lector's hand. He had been afraid of what it would be like to take this step and admit to his feelings, but now that he had, he was happy. It would certainly change things, but like when he had finally accepted that Yugi and the others were his friends, he felt this would be a good change.

George warbled in agreement.


End file.
